


Breakout

by Eilera



Series: This Isn't a Procedural Cop Show [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, But They're Working Through It, Dorks in Love, Drama, Established Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Still Looks Good In A Police Uniform, Except The Cool Ones, Flashbacks, Fluff, Humor, Kidnapping, M/M, Matt Holt has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Prison, Shatt, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, The Galra Also Still Suck, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera
Summary: Allura sighed, passing Shiro a thick folder from her desk. “We need you two to go undercover.”Shiro blinked. “Undercover?”“In prison?” Matt gasped, feeling a Cheshire cat smile spread across his face.“That’s right, boys.” Allura smiled sweetly. “As they say, don’t drop the soap.”Oh shit. She was right.“And try not to get shanked.”(Direct sequel to 'Fractured' in which Shiro and Matt are police detectives still getting themselves into trouble.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy here we go!! Thank you so much to everyone who has waited patiently for this sequel, you guys are the best. To any new readers, please be advised that you should read 'Fractured' prior to this one or you'll be very confused.
> 
> I will be posting a new chapter every Saturday. I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> I also can't thank the following people enough for their help on this. You all are superstars:  
> [DeathByStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/works)  
> [Kunfetti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunfetti/pseuds/Kunfetti)  
> [SmolCryingChildSitsAlone287](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolCryingChildSitsAlone287/pseuds/SmolCryingChildSitsAlone287)

“I’m just saying, the best option here is obviously poison.”

“Matt, we’re not poisoning Allura.”

“Shiro, honey-bun, it’s untraceable.”

“The whole point of poisoning her is so that she’ll let us go on vacation together. That would require us to tell her we had poisoned her.”

Matt sighed. “We tell her we poisoned her and that no one will believe her because it’s _untraceable_. Therefore, she should let us go on vacation. Try and keep up, Shiro.” He grinned, putting down his binoculars so he could run his finger down Shiro’s chest. “Thank god you’re pretty.”

Shiro didn’t even twitch, keeping the binoculars securely over his eyes, but Matt watched his Adam’s apple bob. He was starting to learn all the signs to look for.

“Why are we even talking about this? We’re not going to poison our captain. We’re supposed to be watching for our perp, Matt,” Shiro said, voice steady.

Matt leaned over the middle armrest of their police vehicle to suck at Shiro’s jaw, teeth grazing skin in an unspoken promise. Shiro’s breath hitched. Matt grinned into his skin, letting his hands roam over those toned biceps and abs. God, he was so fucking _ripped_. And he was all _Matt’s_. He trailed kisses along Shiro’s jaw to his ear.

“I want to go to Japan,” he whispered.

Shiro finally lowered his binoculars, looking over at Matt, eyes bright. “Really?”

Matt leaned back, giving his partner a serious look. “I want to see where you’re from, sweetpea.”

Shiro blinked before lunging forward, capturing Matt’s lips in a fervent kiss. Matt hummed into it, carding his fingers through Shiro’s hair. He loved the raspy feeling of the stubble. He loved kissing this man. He loved the feel of him.

He loved Shiro.

Matt tried to tug Shiro closer, but the cramped vehicle jam packed with police equipment made it difficult. He blindly reached out, hand searching for their tablet so he could move it out of the way. It was hard to focus when Shiro was sucking his brains out of his mouth. 

“Any sign of Throk?” A voice suddenly blared in their ears, causing them both to jump apart. Matt let out a stream of colourful profanity.

“Language,” Shiro admonished, out of breath. He looked thoroughly ravished, hair sticking up and lips kiss swollen.

Matt gave him the finger before activating the radio. “Uh, no sign of him yet.”

“No doubt. I imagine it’s hard to see anything when you’re too busy making out.”

“Pidge, were you watching us you perv-there he is!” Matt pointed.

Their perp was walking down the street towards a nearby warehouse. He had a dark purple hoodie on, but Matt could tell it was him. They’d been hunting this asshat down for the last two weeks. He’d robbed a jewellery store and nearly killed the lone security guard on duty there. He’d made off with over forty-thousand dollars worth of jewels. One of Matt’s informants had given him a tip that Throk liked to pawn off his stolen goods here, so they were keeping an eye out.

“Remind me to give Joel a thank you card,” Matt said, moving to take off his seatbelt.

“Make sure it’s a thank you card this time and not a ‘get well soon’ one. Informants don’t take those very well,” Shiro said, pushing open the driver’s side door.

“That was one time!” Matt whined, stepping out of the car just as Throk entered the warehouse. “Never let it go,” He muttered.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the jewel thief, Tony Throk!!” Matt declared, dragging the criminal into the precinct to much applause. “Captured by detective duo extraordinaire, Shiro and Matt!”

Shiro sighed as Matt soaked up the attention. “Just put him in the holding cell, please.”

“Yessir.” Matt winked, yanking on the handcuffs and tugging him away.

Shiro made his way to the kitchen to make himself a steaming hot cup of tea, only to see Lotor hovering around, chatting with Keith and Lance. Lance didn’t look particularly happy to have him there, if his constant glares were anything to go by.

Lotor had been hanging around the precinct a lot lately as an adviser as they tried to track down the remaining Galra strongholds and take them down. His information had been invaluable and so far he hadn’t done anything to warrant Lance’s aggression.

“Sergeant.” Lotor greeted politely as Shiro entered the kitchen. “I see you managed to capture another criminal. I do hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle?”

“Not at all,” Shiro replied, filling up the kettle with water. “Matt did his research. We were ready.”

Lotor had a strange look on his face as his eyes tracked over to Matt, lips quirking. “Yes. Matt is really quite smart, isn’t he?”

Shiro opened his mouth to reply but Lance cut him off.

“Well, I wouldn’t say _that_ smart. He’s okay, I guess.” For some reason Lance looked even more annoyed with Lotor, if that were possible.

Regardless, Shiro felt a warm smile stretch across his own face at the thought of Matt. “He’s one of the smartest people I know. And that’s including Pidge and Hunk too,” he replied as he plugged in the kettle and flicked it on.

Lotor nodded in agreement, never taking his eyes off Matt. “Such intelligence is certainly…intriguing.”

Shiro frowned slightly. That was an odd thing to say.

“Anyway, I’ll take my leave. Have a good day, sergeant.” Lotor gave him a small smile before turning on his heel to make his way out of the precinct.

“God, I can’t stand that guy,” Lance grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shiro, buddy, please tell me you’re seeing what he’s putting down?”

“I didn’t see him put down anything.” Keith frowned.

“Not literally, babe.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lance,” Shiro sighed as he grabbed his new black cat mug from the cabinet.

“He’s _interested_ in Matt,” Lance squawked, looking at them both incredulously.

Shiro shrugged. “So? He’s interesting.”

“Whose interesting?” Pidge cut in, moving towards the sink to rinse out her R2D2 cup.

“He’s drooling over your brother again,” Keith said, giving Shiro a teasing smile.

“Ew, gross. Not in the workplace, Shiro.” Pidge groaned.

“Wait, wait, wait. Doesn’t it bother you that he’s hitting on your boyfriend?” Lance asked in disbelief.

Shiro looked at him in confusion. “Why? It’s not like Matt would ever cheat on me. I trust him.”

Pidge considered him for a moment. “You guys are going to rot my teeth out.”

“So, you finally got together?” A gruff voice sounded from behind Shiro.

Shiro turned to see a grumpy man in a black suit, eyepatch covering one eye. A warm smile spread across his face. “Iverson. It’s nice to see you.”

“What are _you_ doing here? Get back to your fancy FBI office, traitor,” Lance teased, sticking his tongue out at Iverson.

Shiro was always in awe of how much disdain Iverson managed to pack into his one good eye. It was truly inspiring.

“I see you have yet to grow up, Detective McClain.”

“I-“

“Not much has changed here.” Shiro cut in, stepping forward to block Lance. If he didn’t stop him before he got on a roll there was no end to it. “Are you here for a case?”

Iverson clapped Shiro on the shoulder. “I’ve come with a new one for your Captain. Something tells me you’ll be involved in this one.” 

Before Shiro could reply, he was interrupted by Allura.

“Shirogane! Holt! I need you in my office, now,” She ordered.

Iverson gave him a wink.

With a sigh, Shiro set the kettle back down.

This didn’t sound good.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We’ve got a missing person case,” Allura said without preamble.

Matt squared his shoulders. He knew what it was like for someone you cared about to go missing. He glanced at Shiro who looked resolute as he took the folder from Allura.

“Her name is Romelle Davila, twenty-four years old. Her brother reported her missing. The FBI don’t seem to want to take this one, but Iverson didn’t just want to let it go. He’s asked us for help.”

Matt blinked. “Are we sure that was Iverson and not an alien that has taken over his body?”

Allura didn’t even acknowledge him. Ouch. “Please make this one a priority. She’s already been missing for seventy-two hours. Every second counts.”

Shiro looked over at Matt. “We’ll start with the brother.”

“Sounds good to me.” Matt nodded, gesturing for Shiro to go first. He smirked as the other man headed out the door. The view from back here was truly inspiring.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr. Davila?”

Shiro watched as the young man nodded nervously, fingers clasped in his lap as he stared back at them from his armchair. The chair dwarfed him, making his slender frame seem smaller than it was. “Please just call me Bandor.”

Shiro and Matt had made their way to Romelle Davila’s apartment. As far as he could tell, she shared it with her brother. It wasn’t in the nicest area and they’d stumbled across three drug addicts sleeping in the stairwell, but the unit itself was well cared for if a little threadbare.

Bandor was understandably anxious. He was scared for his missing sister and absolutely certain something terrible had happened to her.

“Bandor, can you tell us about the last time you saw your sister?” Matt asked gently, pen poised over his notebook.

“She was leaving to go for a job interview. She’s always had trouble finding a job because…because she never graduated high school. But she’s not stupid! She just had to quit because of me. Our parents died in a car accident and since then she’s been taking care of me.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. “She was so excited about this job. The money was decent, and it didn’t require any experience.”

Shiro nodded, not wanting to interrupt.

“She got all dressed up and did her hair. She made me breakfast and told me she would be home in time for dinner.” Bandor gripped his pants tightly and his shoulders slumped. “When I got home she wasn’t here. I figured the interview might have run long or something but when it got dark and she still wasn’t home I knew something was wrong. She would _never_ leave me hanging. She would tell me if she was going anywhere.”

“Do you know where the interview was?” Shiro asked. This certainly didn’t sound good for Romelle. If she didn’t show up soon…

Chances were they’d be looking for a body.

Bandor shook his head, looking lost. “I don’t know.”

Matt leaned forward in his chair, tapping his pen on his chin. “Was Romelle seeing anyone? Is there a chance she could have…run off with a boyfriend, or…?” He trailed off.

Bandor's voice shook, but his eyes were resolute. Fiercely he said, “She doesn’t have a boyfriend. She would never just leave me here.”

Shiro considered it. Someone who gave up school to take care of their brother would never just abandon him. No, this was not looking good. At all.

“Okay,” Matt said gently, raising his hand defensively. “I believe you. Do you mind if we take your sister’s laptop? We might be able to find the ad in question. It might not be related to it, but they could maybe give us an idea of when she left and where she was headed. Do you have any recent photos of her?”

Bandor swallowed thickly and gave them a sharp nod as he searched through his phone.

As Matt got up to grab the laptop, Shiro reached out and placed his hand gently on Bandor’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’re going to find her.”

Bandor’s eyes were wet as he looked up at Shiro. “Please. She’s all I have left.” He whispered, present Shiro with a picture of a pretty blonde woman with sparkling eyes.

As they stepped back outside, Matt glanced over at him. “This doesn’t bode well.”

Shiro sighed, digging for his keys. “No, it doesn’t,” He agreed as he unlocked the car.

“An attractive, young woman disappears…I’m dreading what we’re going to find here.”

Yeah. Shiro loved his job. He enjoyed helping people, protecting the innocent, making the world just a little bit safer. But it was cases like these that were hard. It was difficult to pretend this one wasn’t going to end in tragedy.

Matt groaned as he checked his phone. “Dude, Lotor needs to take a damn chill pill. He keeps gushing over how smart I am and wanting me to talk to him about my inventions. He sent me fifteen text messages while we were in there.”

Shiro grinned. “You are smart.”

“Shiro-“

“And talented.”

“Shiro!” Matt blushed profusely.

“And gorgeous.”

“Okay, flattery will get you everywhere.” Matt announced as Shiro started the car. “Let’s drop off this laptop and get some ice cream and then I’m gonna show you how much I appreciate you.”

Shiro’s heart somersaulted in his chest. That sounded amazing. “Dairy Queen?”

Matt groaned. “Oh my God, I’m going to eat everything.”

“Fine by me, it’s your turn to pay.”

“Excuse me!? I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”

Shiro pulled out onto the road.

Some things just never changed.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the end they didn’t get their ice cream, as the moment they stepped into the precinct, Allura dragged them into her office.

“Sendak has escaped prison,” Allura said.

“Well, shit,” Matt sighed, glancing over at Shiro. The taller man was stiff, but he smiled at Matt.

“There seems to be some strong evidence that someone from the inside helped him escape. The prisoners are being frustratingly tight-lipped.”

“Well, as they say, snitches get stitches.”

Shiro and Allura graced him with identical unimpressed looks.

“What? They say it,” Matt pouted.

“Anyway,” Allura sighed, passing Shiro a thick folder from her desk. “I’m taking you two off the Davila case. We need you two to go undercover.”

Shiro blinked. “Undercover?”

“In _prison_?” Matt gasped, feeling a Cheshire cat smile spread across his face.

“That’s right, boys.” Allura smiled sweetly. “As they say, don’t drop the soap.”

Oh shit. She was right.

“And try not to get shanked.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We’re going to prison tomorrow.”

“That we are.” Shiro agreed, not looking up from his book. He was comfy in his armchair, a mug of hot chocolate beside him and a whole new world to immerse himself in. He had to enjoy this while it lasted. He doubted prison would be very relaxing.

“Do you think the food will be good?”

Shiro turned the page, taking a sip from his mug. So good. “I doubt it.”

“Still better than what you make, beefcake,” Matt quipped, but Shiro didn’t rise to the bait. “But, like, it’s a place full of dangerous criminals. We could be hurt.”

“Mm,” Shiro hummed.

“I wonder what it’ll be like.”

Shiro sighed, putting his book down on his lap and looking up at Matt. His eyebrow quirked up. “You’re excited, aren’t you?”

Matt kicked his feet like a raging four-year-old from his place on the couch. “Stop reading my mind! Don’t judge me!”

Shiro grinned. “I don’t need to be psychic to know you’re excited. You practically swooned when Allura said ‘prison’.”

Matt rolled off the couch, landing on the laminate floor in an ungainly heap. Flipping onto his back, he lazily pushed himself towards Shiro with his feet, dragging half their electronic cords with him in the process. Shiro looked down at his ridiculous boyfriend as he paused at his feet.

“Please learn to walk.”

Matt pouted. “I do what I want.”

Oh no, it was coming.

“And what I want to do is you.” Matt’s grin was completely unapologetic as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Even though he knew it was coming, the heat still rushed to Shiro’s face. Matt’s smug grin was both beautiful and infuriating.

He’d learned to play Shiro like a goddamn musical prodigy. Well, two could play at that concert. Shiro moved his feet away as Matt reached for him.

“I’m reading.” He sniffed imperiously, picking his book back up and staring at it intently. His body was so hyper sensitive to Matt’s presence, there was no way he was going to be reading anything. But Shiro could front like a fucking champion. ‘Fake It ‘Till You Make It’ was his goddamn motto.

He could feel Matt’s eyes on him as he pretended to scan the page, even managing an intrigued hum as he turned to the next one.

Matt huffed at his feet. “Shiroooo, c’mon.”

“I’m reading,” Shiro said again, reaching for his mug once more.

Matt pulled himself to his knees by gripping Shiro’s leg, crouching in front of him.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

Matt reached up, grabbing Shiro’s book and pushing it down. “Pay attention to me.”

Shiro was most certainly paying attention to him. His skin burned wherever Matt touched him, warm and insistent. Perfect.

It took every ounce of will in him to sip his mug and casually place it back on the side table.

Matt huffed again. His fingers tightened on Shiro’s knee, sending jolts of tingling electricity straight through him.

Shiro went to lift the book up again but Matt held his hand down. He snatched the offending volume and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Hey-“ Shiro started, but he was silenced quite effectively by Matt crawling up onto his lap and kissing him senseless.

He groaned as Matt pressed him down into the cushions of the chair, heart soaring as Matt gripped his hair and gently tugged his head back to nip at his throat.

“Are you paying attention now?” Matt’s voice was deep and went straight to Shiro’s dick.

Yes.

Shiro could only manage a nod, hands gripping Matt’s thighs as he pressed up into the familiar planes of his body.

After a moment, Matt leaned back. His lips were kiss swollen and his hair was a tangled mess. God, he was gorgeous. 

“To bed. Now,” Matt commanded.

Shiro had long gotten over his embarrassment over how much he liked Matt ordering him around.

He couldn’t get to the bedroom fast enough.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, we need to establish ourselves right away if we want to prevent…things,” Matt whispered as they were led through the hallways to their cell. “You know what I’m getting at, right?”

“Since when are you an expert on prison?” Shiro asked, tightening his grip on the stack of blankets and pillows they were given.

“I’ve watched movies.”

Shiro gave him an unimpressed look.

“What? They’re accurate!”

“They really aren’t,” One of the prison guards muttered.

Matt frowned, narrowing his eyes at the guard’s nametag. “Shut up, you’re not helping, _Blaytz_. What the hell kind of name is that?”

“Let’s not antagonize the prison guards, okay?” Shiro placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder as they stopped in front of a cell to drop off their linens.

“Just leave them on the bunk. It’s lunch break so we’ll take you to the lunchroom,” the other guard, Matt could just make out the name ‘Gyrgan’ on his nametag, ordered. What the hell was with this prison and messed up names?

“I’m just saying, Shiro, you’re a big guy. You could intimidate most of these idiots just by flexing. Just, you know, let them know I’m with you.”

“With me?” Shiro frowned. He didn’t look like he liked what he was hearing.

“You know…c’mon don’t make me say it.”

“Matt, I’m not- I’m not making you my… _bitch_.” He whispered the last word with shame.

Matt grinned. “Got you to say bitch.”

Shiro rolled his eyes.

“Seriously though, it’s the best way to prevent people from making those drop the soap jokes a reality.”

“Matt, I can’t-“ Shiro sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t treat you like my…property.”

“It’s _fine_ , hot-cakes!” Matt gave Shiro an imploring look. “I know you don’t mean it. Just channel that Kuro persona. I saw you tell Myzax to go suck Zarkon’s cock. It’s a cherished memory for me. You can do this!”

“It’s different when it’s you, though,” Shiro muttered, looking embarrassed.

Matt sighed. What the hell? Why did Shiro have to be so damn nice?

He was in love with a man that was going to get them killed.

“Look, if I can offer you guys some advice? Stay away from Haxus and his group. Just keep your heads down and you’ll be fine.” Blaytz said, giving them a nervous look as they neared the lunchroom.

“Haxus?” Shiro inquired as they stopped outside the doors.

“He’s killed two other inmates just this year,” Gyrgan said. “Keep your heads _down_.”

“Right. Keep a low profile. Got it,” Matt nodded. Well, no turning back now. Without pausing, he kicked the lunchroom doors open. They crashed into the walls with a loud bang, the sound echoing through the suddenly quiet room.

“Matt!” Shiro hissed from behind him. “What are yo-“

“Listen up, kids!” Matt yelled, opening his arms wide as everyone turned to him. “Which one of you is the biggest, baddest motherfucker in this shithole?” He demanded, looking around. “Come up here so I can fuck you a new asshole.”

The slack jawed stares of the inmates swiftly shifted to murderous. Matt’s grin never wavered.


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro’s heartbeat skyrocketed. What was that idiot doing!? Did he want to get shanked!? Allura had specifically told them _not_ to do that.

“Oh, this isn’t going to end well,” Blaytz muttered, hand hovering over his baton.

“Just…give us a minute,” Shiro said without looking at the two guards. He rushed up behind Matt, trying to look as imposing as he could manage.

“C’mon, don’t be shy!” Matt yelled, taking a few more steps in. “I’ll even whisper sweet nothings in your ear!”

A large, bald man covered in Nazi tattoos stood up from one of the nearby tables. He was taller than Shiro by at least a few inches and probably had fifty pounds on him. He cracked his knuckles as he stomped over to Matt, towering over the smaller man.

Matt beamed up at him like he wasn’t about to be crushed by an elephant. “Don’t worry, tough guy, I’ll still respect you in the morning,” He purred.

The man growled, hand reaching for Matt’s throat. Shiro moved to intercept, but Matt was faster. He grabbed the man’s junk in a tight fist, squeezing hard enough to cause him to pale dramatically behind his stark tattoos.

Matt’s smug grin slid right off his face as the man gripped his arm. Shiro sighed internally. He was starting to understand Matt’s plan. Before that giant hand could snap Matt’s forearm, Shiro darted forward, slamming his prosthetic fist into the Nazi’s face. An audible crunch echoed throughout the room as the man fell back, crashing to the floor. He didn’t so much as twitch as a tooth rolled across the dirty tile floor.

Oops, he must have knocked one out.

Matt’s smug grin was firmly back in place as he stepped up onto the giant’s prone form. His hand snapped out, grabbing Shiro's wrist.

“This is what happens if you fuck with us, got it? This ass belongs to me! You want a piece, you speak to me first!” he yelled.

Shiro twitched as Matt slapped his ass, giving it a not-so-gentle squeeze. Before Shiro could glare at him, Matt pulled him forward, crushing their lips together. Instinctively, Shiro melted into it.

“Okay, that’s enough!” A commanding voice cut through the tension like a laser. Shiro looked up to see an overweight man on a Segway slowly drift into the room.

“You,” he called, pointing at Shiro. “Five days in solitary. Take him.” He jerked his chin at the two guards that had brought them in.

“Uh, but Varkon, this-” Blaytz began but it didn’t look like the prison warden was even listening.

Shiro turned back to Matt just in time to catch his pleased grin. He narrowed his eyes at him. “You planned this.” He hissed as the guards grabbed his arms.

“I would _never_!” Matt gasped, though his lingering smile spoke volumes. “Don’t worry, love-bun. I’ll have everyone wrapped around my finger by the time you get back.”

“Matt, wait-”

“Come along.” Gyrgan muttered, dragging Shiro back towards the doors.

Matt waved cheerfully.

“MATT!”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiro sighed as he flopped onto the shitty mattress. It smelled stale and moldy. Great. He rolled over onto his back, staring at the books the guard had been kind enough to bring him so he wouldn’t lose his mind in solitary.

“Well, if I’m going to be stuck in solitary, might as well get some reading done.”

He reached for one of his books. It was really quiet in here. He should be able to get through most of the book before he was sent back into gen pop.

Shiro was a bit worried leaving Matt alone there, but he also knew his partner could take care of himself. At least until Shiro got back.

Then he would kill him himself.

Shiro supposed he should be grateful it was himself that was sent to solitary and not Matt. This silence would drive the brunette crazy very quickly. Matt didn’t do well with lack of stimulation.

Shiro propped his back up against his pillows, settling in for a relaxing five days in solitary. He must have been reading for at least an hour when he heard the door to his section open with a loud creak. It was startling in the silence.

Shiro looked up, wondering if someone was there for him.

“Put him next to prisoner 117-9875.” A voice ordered and Shiro could hear footsteps walk past his cell and into the neighbouring one. There was some shuffling before the door slammed shut with an audible click of the lock.

“Sorry 117-9875. We have no choice.” One of the guards called out to Shiro as they headed out of the block.

Sorry? What were they sorry for?

Shiro shrugged to himself and went back to his book. It was getting quite good. He shifted to a more comfortable position, the springs in his mattress creaking with every movement.

“Hello?” A tremulous voice called out.

Shiro looked up. The voice was coming from the neighbouring cell.

“Uh…hi,” He called back cautiously.

“Oh, I’m so glad I’m not alone here! There was a seventy-six point twenty-seven percent chance that I would be alone again.”

Shiro blinked. This person had an odd way of talking, but he could really hear the relief in their voice.

“Have you been in solitary before?” Shiro asked, setting his book down.

“Oh yes, in this reality and many others. However, in sixteen point thirty-three percent of other realities, _I_ am the prison guard and someone _else_ is in solitary.”

Shiro frowned. Other realities? Was this guy on drugs or something? Shiro picked his book back up, intent on minding his own business.

“What is your name?” the voice inquired. “My name is Slav. I’ve been in this prison for eighteen thousand three hundred and seventy-two hours, twenty-eight minutes and two seconds.”

Shiro could already feel his eye twitching.

Before he could reply, there was a loud shriek. It startled him so badly, he dropped his book and jumped out of the squeaky bed.

“There's a crack! A crack in the ceiling!”

Shiro frowned. “So? There are probably cracks all over this building.”

“Oh no, oh no, no, no. There is a three point twenty-four percent chance that this ceiling could collapse taking both you and me out in one fell swoop! I can only hold my breath for seventy-five point sixty-seven seconds! My chances of survival are abysmal!”

Shiro took a deep breath, trying to dig into his vast well of patience. He'd known Matt for most of his life and Lance for years. He could handle this Slav guy.

“Just, close your eyes and you can pretend the crack isn’t there.”

“But I'll _know_ it! And if I close my eyes that will increase my chances of a gruesome death by threefold! It will go from abysmal to catastrophically impossible! I can already feel the crushing weight of thousands of pounds of concrete closing in on me!”

Shiro could hear the man pacing in the other room, nervously breathing and mumbling percentages to himself.

It was fucking annoying.

Wait. How long was he going to be stuck here?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt pondered the bag of fermenting fruit and bread smuggled away in the toilet tank. He’d stolen it from one of the other prisoners that got shanked that morning. That guy wasn’t going to need it. His bleeding corpse was Matt’s gain.

The prisoners loved this stuff. For some reason. Matt supposed when this was your only option for alcohol you took what you could get. Frankly, he didn’t even want to smell it let alone put it anywhere near his mouth. Not even if he was dying of thirst. Even so, this batch should be more than enough to-

He looked up when his cell door opened, trying to close the tank lid without making it look obvious. He relaxed when he saw it was just Shiro returning from the safety of solitary confinement.

“Shiro!” He said excitedly, taking a step towards him. “I’m making moonshine ‘cause I’m such a badass. I heard it’s called ‘prulo’? ‘Pruno’? Something with a ‘p’. Anyway, how was-“

He cut himself off as Shiro stalked towards him, crowding him up against the wall of their tiny cell.

“Shir-mmph!”

Shiro’s lips silenced him quite effectively. He moaned, pressing up against Shiro’s chest and running his hands down those rock-hard abs. God, Matt missed him. He’d only been gone for five days, it was pathetic.

He’d been concerned that Shiro would be upset with him, seeing as he purposefully got him sent to solitary. But it was for his own good! Matt had made serious progress with the inmates here and-

He gasped as Shiro’s hand slipped into his sweatpants, touching some places that were very much interested in the current proceedings. Matt bucked against it, tilting his head back as Shiro’s tongue lapped at his neck.

“ _Ah_ , Shiro!” His eyes rolled back slightly. This was _amazing_. He didn’t think Shiro would be okay with this when they had so little privacy. This was-

Shiro leaned back slightly and gave Matt the most heartwarming smile he had ever seen. Matt could feel his heart somersaulting around in his ribcage like a moth near a street lamp. He reached over to pull Shiro back in for a kiss, but the other man’s smile suddenly turned deadly.

“Shiro?”

“If you send me back there, I’ll burn your Star Wars collection.”

Matt’s eyes widened in horror. “You _wouldn’t_.”

Shiro smiled at him sweetly. “Try me.”

He gave Matt a quick peck on the nose before he turned on his heel and marched right back out of the cell, leaving Matt somewhat compromised and sporting a _very_ prominent problem, the bastard.

“Shiro! C’mon!”

The taller man gave him a cheerful wave, exactly the same one Matt had given him when he was dragged to solitary. Matt blinked stupidly as Shiro rounded the corner out of sight. He let his head thump against the wall with a groan.

“Okay. I deserved that.”

He was going to need a _very_ cold shower.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, how was solitary? Did you have a nice, relaxing vacation?”

“I’m still mad at you.”

Matt sighed, sticking his fork in what was most definitely not macaroni and cheese. It was more like a glob of tasteless orange goo on cardboard. To his disgust, Shiro was eating it with enthusiasm.

Matt said a small prayer for his intestines.

“C’mon, honey bunny. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Shiro shot him a glare, though it was tempered by the plastic spork hanging from his mouth.

“Okay, okay I promise not to send you back there. I thought you would have liked the peace and quiet!”

Shiro yanked the spork out of his mouth and something horrible flashed across his eyes for a brief moment, like a veteran having a Vietnam flashback.

Matt frowned. “Shiro?”

“It-“

“SHIRO!” A voice called from somewhere near the food line.

Shiro grabbed Matt by the collar of his prison jumper, a crazed look in his eyes. “Hide me.”

“W-what?”

“Please!” Shiro begged, looking around wildly for a hiding spot.

The cafeteria was not the best place for hide and seek. Before Matt could reply, Shiro started to sink in his chair as if he might cower underneath the table but he was too slow.

“Oh, thank the cosmos!” The voice from earlier said, right behind Matt.

The brunette looked over to see a short, slim man with bulging eyes standing with his food tray. He was so thin, he looked like he would collapse if a faint breeze hit him just so. He was staring intently at Shiro who had frozen halfway down his chair.

“There was a thirty-three point sixty-four percent chance that the lunch being served would be roast beef!” The man exclaimed dramatically, placing his tray next to Shiro and slithering into his chair. “I couldn’t remember if I was allergic to roast beef in this reality!”

Uh…what?

“What?” Matt mumbled, staring at the strange man.

“Allergies! Roughly one hundred and fifty people die every year from food related allergies and so far this year only thirty four have died! I could be next!”

Matt glanced over at Shiro who seemed to have zoned out in an effort to preserve his sanity. Matt wished he had that kind of talent.

“Okay,” he said slowly, trying to remain calm. “You’re in luck. It’s macaroni and cheese with chicken nuggets.”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

Matt twitched so violently he almost dropped his fork. “Then why do you care if they served roast beef?” He hissed.

The man sniffed imperiously, opening up his napkin with a dainty flourish before settling it on his lap. “I don’t have to answer to you. I’m eating with Shiro.”

“ _I’m_ eating with Shiro!”

They glared at each other. So, this was the guy Shiro had been stuck with in solitary. Matt now understood why Shiro had had such a hard time. After a moment, the asshole pointedly shifted his chair a smidgen closer to Shiro.

Oh, he wanted to play like that, huh?

Well, jokes on him, Matt could play dirty.

Matt latched onto Shiro’s right arm. “Shiro’s my boyfriend.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Shiro said, steadfastly staring at his plate of orange cardboard.

“Shiro saved my life,” The man snapped, wrapping his slimy arm around Shiro’s prosthetic. “He switched rooms with me so I could escape the cracks.”

“Please stop, Slav.”

“HA! Shiro’s saved my life _many_ times. Good luck keeping up with that!” Matt sneered, pressing his cheek up against Shiro’s.

Slav’s cheeks puffed out in anger. “He complained to me about you.”

Matt smirked. “He complains to me about me.”

Shiro sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m going to make him a better robot arm and I’ll make him another one for his other arm, increasing his power tenfold!”

Matt froze. Oh, he did _not_ just go there. No way.

With a loud war cry, Matt grabbed a handful of the not-macaroni and cheese and hurled it at his new nemesis. The cardboard noodles splashed across his chest like blood splatter.

The room fell silent.

“FOOD FIGHT!” Someone yelled, and all chaos broke loose.

Matt dodged more food, using his tray as a makeshift shield. Slav cowered beside him, throwing prison sustenance at an alarming rate. Matt managed to catch someone right in the face before a stray nugget took out his eye.

“Shiro, what are you doing!? Help me!” He cried out, covering his battle wound.

Shiro was still in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as food flew around him. “I’m waiting for death’s sweet, sweet embrace,” He muttered.

Drama queen.

“I’ll let you organize my room if you help me!”

Shiro perked up at that. Matt’s room was absolute anarchy and it consistently drove Shiro crazy.

“Fine,” He grinned, grabbing a handful of nuggets and lifting his arm to hurl it at a poor, defenseless rapist.

“ENOUGH!” A familiar, sharp voice cut through the bedlam. Everyone froze.

The prison warden, Varkon – and Matt couldn't help but wonder what the hell kind of name was that - glided through the room. His fat rumbled every time the Segway bounced over a dip or rolled over a stray chicken nugget.

“Who started this?” He demanded, eyeing them all.

Matt saw Slav open his mouth.

Oh no.

“It was us,” Slav announced, grabbing onto Shiro’s arm. Matt watched in alarm as Shiro froze and the nuggets were crushed in his fist.

Varkon glared at them both. “Another five days in solitary, boys.”

Shiro looked like he was going to cry, his squished chicken nuggets falling to floor dramatically.

Matt glared as the two of them were carried away, Slav sticking his tongue out at him on his way past.

That slimy bastard had made a great enemy this day.

Assuming, of course, that Matt survived long enough to make it to their epic battle finale.

Because Shiro was going to _kill_ him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt hummed to himself as he mopped the kitchen floor. Of all the various chores and tasks assigned to them in this hell hole, kitchen duty was one of Matt’s favourites. It meant he could sneak extra bits of food while he cleaned, and he got first pick of the fruit to make more pruno. That shit was going faster than Matt could make it. For some reason.

Matt dipped his mop back into the bucket, wringing out the dirty water. The mop made a wet splat as it slapped against the tile floor. Shiro was due back tomorrow and Matt couldn’t fucking wait. It'd basically been ten days without the other man. He was Shiro-starved. This place was goddamn torture.

He decided not to acknowledge that Shiro’s stint in solitary was his fault. Both times.

He was a goddamn angel, that’s what he was.

He pulled himself out of his musings as his back bumped into the wall near the freezer. He blinked, looking at the floor.

“Fuck,” He muttered, frowning. He hadn’t been paying attention and he’d mopped himself into a corner.

As he contemplated his exit strategy, he heard the door to the kitchen slam open.

“Newbie.”

Matt’s muscles tensed as he looked up. Haxus and his cronies piled into the room, all five of them glaring at him like he was a particularly stubborn cockroach.

That was probably because he kind of was. He’d managed to dodge them on three previous occasions. Looked like his brain had finally failed him. He should have known what was coming when his cleaning buddy ended up in the infirmary.

“Haxus!” He greeted jovially, leaning on his mop. “How’s it going, buddy? Nice job with that shanking the other day, you’re truly an inspiratio-”

“Shut up.” Haxus scowled, stalking forward so that he was standing by the stainless-steel table Matt was hiding behind. One of his cronies stayed by the kitchen door, keeping an eye out.

This was bad.

Slowly, carefully, he started rotating the handle of the mop, unscrewing it from the bottom. “Are you guys here for some pruno? I don’t have any right now, but I’m gonna make up another bat-“

Haxus slammed his fist onto the table, the force of it knocking a bowl to the floor with a loud clang. “What. Did. I just. Say?” He growled.

“Ah, you said to shut-” Matt cringed as Haxus sent him a warning glare. “Up.” He finished because he was nothing if not a smart-ass.

Haxus looked over at his cronies incredulously.

“Yeah, I get that. I have authority issues,” Matt babbled, fingers drumming on his mop handle. If he could just stall them long enough, surely one of the prison guards would notice them on the surveillance feed and come check in?

“I told you from the very beginning not to butt into my business, Newbie,” Haxus sneered, slowly stalking around the edge of the table towards Matt.

“What can I say? I’m an entrepreneur, I think big,” Matt shrugged, inching away from Haxus but two of his cronies blocked his escape.

“It’s a shame, we could have used you and your partner’s skills in our team. Especially after losing Sendak. But I just can’t deal with competition.”

Matt willed himself not to show excitement over the mention of Sendak. Fuck, he needed to get the hell out of here. Once Shiro was back, they could find a way to get Haxus to talk.

“It’s too bad the kitchen is such a dangerous place.” Haxus shook his head in mock remorse.

Crony number one attacked just as Haxus finished talking, but Matt was expecting it. He kicked the bucket of dirty water at the man and it rolled along the floor, tripping the idiot as he lunged for Matt. He went down in a mess of water and soap suds, sliding along the floor to crash into the freezer door.

Matt didn’t have time to enjoy that as crony number two, obviously smarter than his colleague, carefully navigated the wet floor to stab at Matt with a small shank.

Matt twisted the mop handle like a staff, knocking the blade from his hand before smacking him in the face with the other end. Hard. Blood spurted from his nose and the man yelped as he fell to the floor. His head collided with the table as he went, knocking him out cold. Blood mixed with the soap suds, turning them pink.

Yeah, Matt was a motherfucking Jedi master.

“Seriously? I just cleaned that,” Matt grumbled.

“Take him out!” Haxus snarled, gesturing for his other two goons to attack together.

Matt vaulted over the table, narrowly missing getting hit with a hammer as crony number three swung wildly at him. Matt hurtled into the man, pushing him into his friend. They all fell together in a heap on the floor, a mess of limbs and soap studs. Matt could feel water soaking into his clothes, restricting his movements as the fabric clung to his skin.

A stray elbow crashed into his temple, making him see stars.

“Fucking…stay…still!” Crony number three grunted, trying to grab onto Matt but he squirmed away.

He grabbed a large frying pan from the bottom shelf of the table, struggling to move away on hands and knees on the slippery floor. It clanged loudly as he smashed it into number four’s kneecap. The guy crumbled to floor.

Before Matt could determine his next move, a foot collided with his stomach hard enough to lift him off the floor. It knocked the air out of him in a breathless wheeze and he felt something snap. He curled instinctively around the wound.

“Goddammit, Sniv. He's one fucking guy. Do I have to do everything around here?” Haxus raged from somewhere above Matt.

Blearily, Matt reached for the frying pan that he'd dropped but Haxus stopped him by stepping on Matt's wrist.

“I said ‘don’t move,'” He growled, pressing down on Matt’s wrist with all his weight.

The bone snapped with a sickening crunch.

Matt jerked, groaning in pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was bad. This was very bad.

Pain seared through his wrist like burning fire, spiking in intensity as Haxus twisted his foot along broken bones. Matt choked on a sob.

“Now, let’s have some fun.” Haxus grinned, reaching for him.

Matt did the only thing he could think of.

He bit him.

Hard.

Haxus yelped, jumping back as a chunk of flesh ripped away from his hand. Matt spat it out in disgust, following up with Holt Signature Defence Technique number twelve: a swift kick to the groin.

Haxus went down like a horny porn star about to give his first blowjob.

Matt didn’t bother waiting around to celebrate, he was already off running, sneakers slipping on the wet floor.

If he could just get to-

Someone barrelled into him from behind, crushing him against the wall hard enough to dent the drywall with his knee. He coughed as his injured ribs protested the violent treatment. Gritting his teeth against the pain, his fingers twitched as he struggled to lift his hand towards-

The fire alarm.

His pinky curled around the edge and he yanked it down just as he fell. A loud siren blared setting off the sprinklers. Water drenched his already soaking clothes, leaving him cold and shaking.

“Fucker!” The goon that knocked him down growled, fingers clawing at Matt’s throat trying to get a grip.

Matt struggled sluggishly, desperation lending him strength. A fist collided with his battered head followed by another and another, darkness settling around him and slowly overtaking his vision.

He reached for his attacker’s face, but his arms weren't long enough, he couldn’t-

A foot came towards him and he saw no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, FINALLY got to introduce Slav! I've missed him so much in the show and I was so excited to put him in here. Hope he turned out okay as I've never written him before. :)
> 
> Also, this whole scene with Matt at the end was never supposed to happen but Matt decided to open his mouth and LOOK WHAT HAPPENED. Always getting himself into trouble. :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter does contain a rather graphic flashback for Shiro. If you're unsure if you can handle it I would recommend skipping the flashback scene which is entirely in italics. It is not central to the overall plot, just showing how awful it was for him there.

“And in that reality, there is no gravity and we just float away into the vast emptiness of space!” Slav’s ranting voice was nowhere near muffled enough by the wall.

Shiro contemplated the crusty sheet on his bed. If he did it just right, he could hang himself with it…

“But in yet _another_ reality, my friend wouldn’t have overheard that scary gang guy,” Slav said mournfully. “I want to be in that reality.”

Or maybe he could just bash his head against the wall. Oblivion sounded like it would be worth the potential brain damage.

“Of course, he did threaten my friend so he wouldn’t tell someone about what he heard. But my friend told me. Even considering potential prison guard assistance, the chances of me dying a very painful death increased by one hundred and sixteen point twenty four percent! My hands were tied!”

If he managed to kill himself, he was going to haunt Matt for the rest of his days.

“He was very scary. I told him his eyepatch decreased his hand-eye coordination by thirty-eight point sixteen percent. He didn’t take it well.”

He just had to hold on for one more day.

“Well, at least Sendak is gone now. His absence has increased my life expectancy by a significant amount.”

Just one more-

Shiro blinked. “Did you say ‘Sendak’?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Uh, yes. I believe that was his name.”

Shiro moved closer to the wall separating him from Slav. “What do you know about Sendak?”

Slav was quiet, as if recognizing the seriousness of the question. After a moment Shiro could hear him shuffle closer.

“My friend, Laika, overheard him talking to someone about his escape plans,” he said slowly, almost too softly for Shiro to hear. “He…killed my friend after he found out he overheard. I don’t think he knew Laika told me.”

Shiro let his forehead rest on the wall, hands flat against its rough exterior. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“You have…dealt with him in the past?”

Shiro’s eyes settled on his prosthetic.

_“The Champioooooon!” a disembodied voice echoed throughout the packed warehouse, reverberating off the walls. He’d never seen it so full, people standing nearly on top of one another as they strained to see him._

_Shiro kept his face blank. He wouldn’t act like the monster they wanted him to be._

_The monster he knew, deep down, he had become._

_The lights of the arena were near-blinding, so bright he could feel them heating up his skin. The muzzle around his nose and mouth was suffocating, making each breath a struggle. It dug into his skin, rubbing the bridge of his nose raw with every movement, every breath. He could see some of the higher-ranking Galra elite seated in the VIP seats. Haggar was there and so was Sendak. The man gave Shiro a look that sent the hair on the back of his neck on edge._

_“Sendak and Haggar send their regards,” the guard holding him laughed, shoving him into the ring. “They prepared this fight just for you.”_

_He wasn’t on any drugs this time, but he could feel the itch just beneath his skin threatening to drive him insane with_ need _. He didn’t know which was worse, having to deal with the forced euphoria of the drugs or being completely cognizant of just how far he’d fallen._

_Would Matt be ashamed of him?_

_He didn’t want to think about it._ Couldn’t _think about it._

_Matt wasn’t here and Shiro was eternally grateful for that._

_Across from him the cage door opened, allowing his opponent to enter the ring._

_Shiro’s heart stopped._

_It was a child. No more than thirteen or maybe fourteen years old. The kid looked terrified, green eyes wide and tears streaming down her face as she stumbled into the cage. She was clutching a large baseball bat in her hands, the entire thing shaking so badly she nearly dropped it._

_What? What was this?_

_The crowd roared, clearly pleased with this rare event. It thundered through his chest like a herd of buffalo, sending his heart into a panicked frenzy._

_Shiro clasped his twin daggers in nerveless fingers. This…they wouldn’t. They_ couldn’t _._

_Just when he thought this nightmare couldn’t get any worse, he’d stumbled right into the deepest, darkest pits of hell._

_The buzzer rang but Shiro was frozen. The girl stared at him, clearly frightened of the big man with a muzzle over his face. The crowd continued to scream, but Shiro couldn’t hear it around the ringing in his ears._

_He couldn’t do this._

_This would break him so thoroughly he would never be able to piece himself back together. Never be able to forgive himself._

_Shaking his head slowly, he stepped back, dropping his daggers to the cage floor. The crowd booed their displeasure, faces jeering as they hurled insults at him. The guards lifted their stun batons threateningly, but he didn’t care. This was_ his _choice. He would go to his death with open arms before he’d do what they wanted him to._

_Let him die with whatever shreds of honour he had left._

_The young girl’s eyes widened with a speck of hope. Hope. He hadn’t felt that in so, so-_

_A small square on the floor started to flash red beneath the girl’s feet._

_Adrenaline coursed through his veins like liquid fire and he darted forward towards the girl. She screamed in terror, trying to lift the bat to hit him but it was too heavy for her. Shiro snatched her up, tossing her onto his shoulder and dodging to the side just in time to evade a gout of flames as they sprung up from the floor._

_Fucking traps._

_They knew he wasn’t going to fight. Or maybe they knew they could make a show out of him whether he killed her or not._

_Shiro ducked more on instinct than actual conscious thought, just in time to dodge the javelin that soared over their heads. The girl’s fingers dug into the skin of his shoulder as he twisted aside, narrowly missing another gout of flame. He could feel the heat of it searing through his shirt, so hot it was like being burned by an iron. She cried out as the tile beneath them lifted from the floor tossing them into the air like a trampoline. Shiro struggled to hold onto her as she kicked in fright. Her baseball bat fell to the floor with a loud clang._

_He landed hard on the opposite side of the ring, his ankle rolling painfully beneath him. He managed to stay upright, and he moved to dodge as a taser appeared on the ceiling and carefully targeted them._

_Except he couldn’t move._

_Shiro glanced down and realized his foot was caught in something like a bear-trap. With all the adrenaline pumping in his veins he hadn’t felt it puncture his skin. He only had seconds before the taser shot. With a growl of determination, Shiro threw the girl up and away from him._

_She fell to the ground with a cry of pain just as the tasers connected with him. His cry was muffled by the muzzle digging into his flesh. His muscles spasmed involuntarily as he crashed to the floor, narrowly missing being hit by a falling brick._

_God, they’d gone all out with this arena today._

_As soon as he regained control of his muscles, he rolled towards the girl. He would_ not _let them take her. He was putting a stop to this._

_She grabbed onto him as he neared her, clearly understanding that he wasn’t the one she should worry about. It was the arena that was dangerous._

_The crowd ooo’d and ahh’d every time he narrowly escaped a trap. The tension in the room was so thick it was suffocating, blurring Shiro’s vision with exhaustion. He couldn’t keep this up. It was only a matter of time before he-_

_A pole smashed into him, so hard his vision went dark. When he came to he was face-down on the ground, pain throbbing in his chest. He was so tired. He struggled to stand but he didn’t have the energy, movements sluggish as the arena rotated around him in a dizzying display. He looked up to see the little girl just two feet away. Her ankle was ensnared in another one of those bear-traps, fingers clawing at the contraption with desperation._

_The tile beneath her started to flash red._

_Shiro fought to reach for her, fingers straining, desperate to pull her away. He needed to save her. He_ would _save her. He-_

_Pain seared through him, so all-consuming he couldn’t breathe. He saw his arm fall to the floor, blood splashing across his face in a startling arc of red. Red. **Red**. _

_What?_

_His-_

_His arm._

_His_ arm _._

_His._

_Arm._

_Hisarmhisarmhisarmhisarmhisarmhisarm._

_The girl screamed in frantic terror, drawing Shiro’s dazed eyes away from his-_

_The world was moving so slowly. The crowd was going wild, faces alight like a sea of howling demons, calling for death. Shiro blinked in slow motion, eyes moving towards the girl. She was staring at him, green eyes pleading as the tile beneath her turned red and stayed like that._

_The crowd screamed themselves hoarse._

_A pike shot out from behind her, impaling her body right by her heart. She twitched, blood trickling from her mouth as her eyes continued to stare right into his soul. Ripping him apart from the inside out. She coughed, blood misting on his face. He couldn’t take his own eyes off her, not even when the light died from hers and she fell limp. Lifeless._

_Dead._

_Shiro’s head sunk to the floor, heedless of the blood pooling around him from his severed arm as Haggar glided towards him._

_He’d been right._

_It did break him._

“Shiro?”

Shiro twitched, blinking away the purple lights of the arena. He was on the floor of his cell, his left hand clutching his hair and his prosthetic hand flat against the wall separating him from Slav.

He could still smell the blood. Could still feel the gaping emptiness of his right arm. A distinct feeling that something was _wrong_. That something was _missing_.

“Shiro!” Slav said again and if the panic in his voice was any indication, he’d been calling out to him for some time.

Shiro struggled to suck in a deep breath, chest constricting and heart hammering a frantic tempo in his chest. He-

He needed-

“Breathe, Shiro!” Slav called out, tapping a steady rhythm on the wall. “In, and hold, and out.”

Shiro choked, tears splashing onto the floor as he gasped for air. He needed Matt. He-

“Shiro, listen to me! Breathe!”

He took in a shaking breath, chest heaving with desperation. He tried to focus on Slav’s tapping, counting out the seconds as he struggled to just _breathe_. His body shook violently, making it difficult to concentrate.

God, when was this going to stop happening? When was he going to be normal again? Everyone told him it was okay, that he was strong and to just keep pushing through, but he was so _tired_ of this. He just wanted to be better.

Instead, he was falling apart after waking up in the middle of the night and nearly punching Matt in the face or falling back into memories after hearing an innocent sound that just reminded him of…everything.

It was as frustrating as it was embarrassing.

After awhile, Shiro managed to start breathing like a normal person. His body still shook with after-tremors and he willed himself to ignore it. He wiped the tears from his eyes, using some toilet paper to blow his nose.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, unsure if it was loud enough for Slav to hear it.

Slav was silent for a moment before he heard him shuffle slightly.  “How long have you-”

“Just…just tell me about Sendak,” Shiro interrupted.

Slav huffed. “Sendak had someone on the outside helping him escape. My friend Laika didn’t see his face, but was pretty sure of what he heard.”

Shiro’s fist clenched. Someone from the outside? Were there some Galra members still lurking about? Haggar was in prison, but he wouldn’t put it past her to orchestrate Sendak’s escape. Maybe-

“Prisoner 117-9875?” A voice called through Shiro’s door.

Shiro stood up carefully as the door opened, revealing Blaytz.

“I need you to come with me,” the guard said quietly, motioning for Shiro to follow.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt blinked his eyes open.

He hurt. Everywhere.

What…what happened?

“Matt?” A familiar voice whispered, and he looked over to see Shiro sitting beside him. The other man looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and hair limp.

“Hey,” Matt smiled, reaching out for Shiro but the movement caused a sharp pain in his wrist and chest. He winced, gently putting his arm down on the…bed? “Where are we?”

Shiro scooted his chair closer, brushing some of Matt’s hair out of his face gently. “The infirmary at the prison.”

Infirmary? Wh-

Haxus. Shit, they’d gotten him pretty good.

“How did I get here?”

Shiro gave him what was supposed to be a smile, but instead it fell far short. “Your fire alarm trick alerted the guards.”

Matt snorted, but the motion sent a jolt of pain through his chest. “Figures. I apparently have to do everything myself around here. They should have been watching the damn security feeds.”

Shiro’s lips thinned. “I think they’d paid off the security team.”

Matt let his head sink back into the pillow. “Sounds about right.”

They were silent for a moment, the soft beeping of the heart monitor the only sound in the room. Shiro continued to run his fingers through Matt’s hair, careful of what had to be a giant goose egg on his right side.

Shiro paused. “Matt, they are talking about taking you to a hospital.”

Matt twitched, lifting his head slightly. “What?! No. I can’t leave you alone in here.”

“It’s important you get the right kind of medical care.”

“No, I’m not going. Look, Haxus mentioned Sendak. I was going to try and ingratiate myself with him, but I guess that’s not gonna happen. I think we can get him to talk if we work together.”

Shiro pulled his hand away, leaving Matt’s skin cold. “Slav said his friend overheard Sendak talking to someone from the outside about an escape.”

Matt considered that. “Someone helping him from the outside? It makes sense.” He looked up at Shiro, face resolute. “Haxus knows more.”

Shiro contemplated him, eyes stormy with a thousand emotions. He sighed. “Matt…”

“Nope. I’m not listening. Just give me a few days to plan and we can take him!”

“You have a very broken wrist, two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“Okay, maybe more than a few days. Just, please Shiro. I _can’t_ leave you here.”

Shiro looked down at his lap and Matt held his breath. “Okay.”

Matt grinned in triumph.

“But at the first sign of danger I want you to get the hell out and find someone to help. Understand?”

“Yessir!” Matt gave him a mock salute. “Now, I have wounds. I need you to kiss them better.”

Shiro’s face softened and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Matt’s tenderly.

Yeah, Matt was gonna milk this for as long as he could.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Heard your friend is due back tomorrow.”

Shiro looked up from what was supposed to be a sandwich. It looked more like two pieces of plastic encasing a moldy chunk of cheese. Tasted like it too.

Haxus was standing over him, smug sneer in place.

Matt had been put into a private room of the infirmary so Shiro could visit him while pretending to be doing chores. The brunette was supposed to be released tomorrow and Shiro was both worried and excited to have him around where he could keep an eye on him. Matt seemed to be a magnet for trouble wherever he went and Shiro was hard-pressed to keep up with him.

After collaborating with the prison guards, they decided to pretend that Matt couldn’t remember who attacked him and that the security feed had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared. That way, they could hold off on prosecuting Haxus and his cronies for their attack on Matt.

Once they had completed their undercover stint, the tapes would magically reappear.

That was going to be a really good day.

As it was, Haxus seemed to be unable to stop himself from harassing Shiro whenever the opportunity arose.

Shiro chose to stay silent. It had worked for him as Kuro and it was doing the same for him now. All it took was one look at the scars covering his body and more than half the population was terrified of him. Instead, he glanced up at Haxus and then back to his sandwich. He wasn’t worth his time.

In Shiro’s experience, most bad guys couldn’t stand being ignored. Haxus was no different. The man slammed his fist on Shiro’s table, hard enough that bits of lettuce escaped from Shiro’s plate. Shiro paused, refusing to even acknowledge Haxus’ presence. Calmly, he reached for his drink only for Haxus to knock it down. It splashed to the floor.

This time Shiro did look up, but only to take in the sudden silence in the lunch room. Everyone was trying very hard to pretend they weren’t watching this exchange intently.

Haxus leaned in to Shiro’s personal space, breath hot on his face.

“His screams were like music to my ears,” he whispered, eyes dark.

Shiro froze. Yeah, no, he was done with this. He was going to spend the rest of the day with Matt.

Time to let Kuro out.

Quick as a snake, Shiro’s hand darted out to grab Haxus by his hair. He slammed his face into the table once, twice, three times before he let him sink to the floor with a pained groan.

Shiro stood up calmly as Haxus’ cronies converged on him, but they hesitated at the look on his face.

“Okay, okay, enough of this!” A voice commanded, and Shiro smiled internally as Blaytz grabbed his arm.

 “That’s another day in solitary for you, mister,” he said, eyes sparkling as he dragged Shiro from the room and turned down the hall towards the infirmary instead of solitary. Once they were far enough away that no one would hear them, he glanced over at Shiro and laughed. “I gotta say, that was hella satisfying. You just hang out with your partner for the rest of the day and we’ll let you both back in tomorrow.”

Shiro smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

Matt whistled as he made his way towards the showers, whipping his loofa around with his good hand like a pair of nunchucks. The showers were pretty empty this early in the morning. Normally Matt would prefer to stay in bed with Shiro, but he’d been assigned to breakfast duty, so he was forced to get up early.

It was disgusting.

His whistles echoed off the tiled walls as he meandered to his favourite stall. There wasn’t much privacy in this place, but they at least offered the semblance of it with the “stalls”. There were no doors or curtains, but at least he didn’t have to stare at other men’s junk while he showered.

He heard something shuffling and he paused, glancing over his shoulder. There didn’t seem to be anything there.

His lips twitched into a smirk. That didn’t necessarily mean anything.

He hung up his clothes on the nearby hook and turned on the shower, testing the water to make sure it wouldn’t freeze his balls off. As he soaked his body in the hot water, he closed his eyes. Bliss. He continued to belt out a Disney tune, using the mini bottle of shampoo as a microphone.

Geez, what was taking him so long? Some time before Christmas would be nice. He didn’t have all day and he was hungry.

Well, he would just have to entice him further. He grabbed some soap, lathering up his hands. He let it slip from his sudsy fingers.

“Oh no!” He exclaimed like he was in the cheesiest of porno videos. “I dropped the soap!”

Awkwardly, he bent down to pick it up, trying not to let the water block his vision. Finally, he heard someone behind him. He glanced over his shoulder demurely, fluttering his eyelashes at Haxus.

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Haxus frowned at him. Probably completely thrown off by the splendor that was Matt’s body. Yeah, he was gonna go with that.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Matt winked.

Before Haxus could properly react, the lights went out. Matt crouched down as the sound of a scuffle broke out, punctured by a cry of pain from Haxus and a grunt from Shiro. It didn’t take long for someone to go down, the crack of a head on tile echoing viciously. After a moment, Shiro spoke up.

“Matt, can you turn the lights back on, please?”

“Yessir!” Matt grinned, carefully making his way back towards the entrance. Ugh, it was cold. He didn’t think this through very well.

They’d been trying to pin Haxus down for over a week now, but the man had made himself scarce. Matt couldn’t really blame him. His face looked like it had been run over by a bus, thanks to Shiro. Haxus did whatever he could to avoid the other man. They’d had to come up with a plan to catch him alone.

The florescent lights flickered back on with a dull buzz. Shiro was pinning Haxus to the floor with his knees, gun to his head, while the other man panted, blood trickling sluggishly from his face.

“Dude, you’re not supposed to knock him out. We need him to talk.”

“Sorry, it was more slippery than I expected,” Shiro said sheepishly, glancing over at Matt. He froze at the sight of him. “Uh, Matt?”

“Yes, my love?”

Shiro blushed. “You’re naked.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Oh wow, I had no idea that you showered with your clothes on, jellybean.”

“I don’t-” Shiro sighed, turning away. “Put some clothes on, please.”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen this befo-”

“I just think it would be best if you were dress-”

Matt waggled his eyebrows. “I like the freedom. You should try it. Release the beast, Shiro. Let your dingle dangle.”

“I’ll tell you guys whatever you want if you just put your clothes back on,” Haxus muttered, steadfastly refusing to look at Matt.

 “See? He can hardly control his ardour.” Matt gave a put-upon sigh. “I can’t help that I’m this beautiful.”

“Please.” Haxus whispered.

“You sure? You don’t want to see me helicopter this bad boy?”

“Matt!”

“Okay, okay. But for the record? It’s quite the show and you guys are missing out.”

Matt grabbed the nearest towel.

Shiro pulled out a pair of handcuffs, securing Haxus’ arms around a nearby pillar.

“Are you guys police?”

Matt grinned as he pulled on his shirt. “Wow, great deductive reasoning, Sherlock. Was it the handcuffs? The gun? Shiro’s badass skillz when subduing assholes?”

“Fuck off, someone will be in here any minute and-"

“I’m afraid no help is coming for you,” Shiro said blandly, crossing his arms over his chest. “We have a lookout.”

“Slav say ‘hi'!” Matt called out as he squirmed into his pants.

“Um, I thought we weren’t going to name names?” Slav's nervous voice seeped through the closed door. “You are increasing the chances of a gruesome death for me by eighty-six point twenty-three percent.”

Matt turned back to Haxus with a shrug. “He takes some getting used to.”

Haxus gave him a pained look.

“So, are you going to tell us about Sendak or do I have to get Matt naked again?” Shiro inquired, looking imposing as he loomed over Haxus.

Matt smirked. “You can get me naked any time, baby.”

“Dear God, just- just stop.” Haxus groaned, shaking his head.

“Start talking.” Shiro’s voice was all low and rumbly and made Matt want to swoon.

“What do you want to know? He was only here for a few months.” Haxus shrugged, shifting his legs to a more comfortable cross-legged position.

“How did he escape?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know.”

Shiro shrugged, looking over at Matt. “Strip.”

Ho boy. Yessir.

“Okay, okay! I think someone was helping him out,” Haxus stammered, squeezing his eyes shut.

They were quiet for a moment as they waited for him to elaborate. Haxus’ eyes darted between them.

“Who?” Shiro pressed.

“Some guy, I think he was government or law enforcement or something? He had that look about him.”

Matt considered it. It made sense. They’d have the best chance of smuggling someone out of here.

Shiro glanced at Matt.

Either way, it wasn’t good.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my god,” Matt groaned, kicking off his shoes by the front door and launching himself onto their too-small couch. “I missed home!”

He flopped over onto his back and hugged a pillow to his chest. He looked over at Shiro who was carefully hanging his coat.

“It’s really nice to be home,” He smiled, placing their car keys on the hook and padding softly towards Matt.

Matt reached out to him with grabby hands, scooting back on the couch to make room for the other man. Shiro plodded over and draped himself over Matt, resting his head on his chest. He was nearly two hundred pounds of solid muscle, but Matt didn’t care. Except-

“Wait, wait, wait.” Matt squeaked, struggling to reach the remote on the coffee table. It was too far away. “Get up, I need the remote.”

“No.” Shiro’s voice was muffled in Matt’s chest.

“Shiroooo!” Matt whined playfully, squirming to reach just a little further.

Shiro reached up and for a moment Matt thought he was going to be a decent human being and help him grab the remote, but instead he snatched Matt’s arm and pulled it to his side, clamping his arms around him in a tight hug and effectively trapping him.

“What are you, an octopus?” Matt laughed, half-heartedly trying to escape.

“I’m a cuddle-topus.”

Matt froze. “That was pretty pathetic, honey bear.”

Shiro’s body shook as he laughed into Matt’s chest. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well, I’ll forgive you. But I want you to know I’m going to snuggle with you so hard right now.”

Shiro’s smile was better than a thousand pounds of gold. He pushed himself up and leaned in to Matt, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. Matt surged up into it, heart soaring and so, so full.

As he busied himself trying to make Shiro moan, his fingers inched along until-

Shiro twitched violently, jerking back. “Matt!”

Matt smirked. “What?” He asked innocently.

“You grabbed my butt!”

“Uh, excuse me? I’m allowed to grab your butt. In fact, I’m the _only_ one allowed to grab your butt.” To emphasize this, he pinched it again. His grin widened as Shiro blushed. “If you’re a cuddle-topus, then I’m a grab-it-crab.”

Shiro groaned, letting his forehead rest on Matt’s shoulder. “You are hopeless.”

“You love it.”

“I really do,” Shiro said seriously, leaning forward to kiss him again.

“Okay,” Matt said breathlessly as Shiro pulled away once more. “You can’t say things like that unless you’re willing to follow-up on it.”

And yeah, he was definitely willing to follow-up on it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shiro,” Pidge said, poking her head into the lunch room. “They’re at it again.”

Shiro sighed, returning his spoon to his yogurt. “Already?”

“Yup. It began with a fight over the last cookie.”

“Seriously? Are they twelve?”

“Well, to be fair, it’s one of Hunk’s cookies.”

Oh. Well, that helped. A little.

He shared an exasperated look with Pidge before getting out of his chair and making his way to the main room. Pidge followed him silently.

Matt and Lance were in the middle of a new episode of Lance and Matt’s Drama Theatre and had already gathered a decent sized crowd.

“You think you can just come in here and steal _my_ man?” Lance scoffed, glaring steely blue daggers at Matt as he gripped onto Hunk’s left arm.

“ _Your_ man? That wasn’t what he was saying last night!” Matt snarled, yanking on Hunk’s right arm.

“Ooooohhh!” The large crowd of grown-ass adults jeered like they were on the sleaziest episode of Jerry Springer.

Hunk managed to raise his hands to his cheeks, nearly yanking the other two off their feet with his strength. He fluttered his eyelashes. “Guys, I hate it when you fight over me!”

He certainly didn’t look like he was hating this. At all.

God, they’d dragged Hunk into it this time.

Shiro felt a headache sprouting behind his eyes.

Lance gasped. He turned to Hunk, looking betrayed. “You _slept_ with him?”

Hunk looked nervous. “Uh, well-“

“And he _loved_ it.” Matt grinned, smug satisfaction oozing from him like an erupting volcano.

Lance shoved Hunk away. “He’ll never love you like I do!”

“I don’t-” Hunk started.

Matt glared at Hunk. “He’ll never understand you like I do!”

There was a tense silence. Shiro half expected a tumbleweed to roll by.

“There ain’t room in this relationship for the both of us,” Lance said seriously and Shiro once again caught Matt’s lips threatening to break character. Lance was going to beat him at this rate.

As one, they both lunged at each other in the most ridiculous slow-motion fake fight Shiro had ever had the embarrassing misfortune to witness. Pidge looked up at the ceiling as the crowd started picking sides.

Eventually, they stumbled back from each other, panting heavily. There was a glint in Matt’s eyes that sent a warning shiver down Shiro’s spine. What was he planning?

Matt closed his eyes, shaking his head sadly. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he said before grabbing Lance’s face in his hands and kissing him full on the lips.

Shiro slapped his hand over his face as the room went quiet.

It didn’t take long for Lance to flail like a dog sliding on ice, stumbling backwards. His face was so red Shiro wondered if he was going to pass out. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

“What the _fuck_ , Matt?”

Matt gave him an impish grin. “I win.”

The pitch of Lance’s squawk reached a new level of indignant. “That’s cheating!”

Matt shrugged. “No rules against it. You should’ve known better than to challenge a Holt.”

“He’s actually right about that,” Pidge muttered from beside Shiro.

“Keith!” Lance yelped, looking towards his boyfriend. “Defend my honour!”

Keith shook his head as he munched on a sandwich. “I’m eating.”

Shiro sighed internally.

“Uh, guys? Can we just not fight and continue on with our day?” Hunk cut in, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

“You’re absolutely right, Hunk,” Matt grinned, stepping up onto a nearby chair. It rolled dangerously across the floor, but Matt managed to keep his balance. “Matt Holt is the winner!” From out of nowhere he threw a bunch of glitter in the air.

Shiro rubbed his temples as glitter settled in his hair.

“Okay, okay, everyone get back to work,” Allura ordered, shifting a package she was holding to her other hand as she signed a form for Keith. “Shiro, bring me the Reedus and Beezer file.”

Shiro watched as she made her way into her office.

“Ugh, the taste of Lance is still in my mouth,” Matt groaned, sinking into his desk chair as Shiro opened his cabinet to grab the file Allura requested.

“Did you stick your tongue down his throat?” Shiro asked, shooting Matt an unimpressed look.

“Shiro, my sweet bon-bon, have I ever been known to do _anything_ half-assedly?”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want me to answer that?”

Matt flipped him the bird as he started popping an entire packet of gum into his mouth. Shiro watched him in disgust.

“I’m just going…to go,” Shiro muttered, turning on his heel to march to Allura’s office.

As he entered, Allura was just unwrapping the package she had received earlier.

“I have the Reedus-Beezer file,” Shiro announced, holding it up for her to see.

“Just leave it on my desk,” Allura said distractedly, opening the box flaps.

There was a quiet ‘pop’ and a plume of white dust exploded in Allura’s face.

Without thinking, Shiro grabbed Allura’s wrist, yanking her roughly and pushing her behind him. He pulled them out into the hallway and slammed her office door shut to prevent the particles from spreading.

“Captain!” Shiro yelled as Allura sunk to her knees, hand covering her mouth as she coughed. Blood trickled between her fingers, dripping onto the carpet.

“CODE YELLOW!” Shiro roared and the entire precinct erupted into chaos.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt paced the room, glancing up here and there at the heart rate monitor, each blip a comfort to his rattled nerves. So long as it kept beeping, Allura was still alive.

Beside him, Shiro sat stoically in the chair next to Allura’s bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped in front of his face. He hadn’t moved in the last hour.

He still had Allura’s blood on his shirt.

Shiro had managed to get Allura out fast enough that she hadn’t ingested more than the initial inhale. Even still, the effects were devastating.

Fucking anthrax.

Matt turned around as he reached the wall, marching back towards Allura’s bed. She looked so small and fragile, covered in IVs and attached to a machine that breathed for her. He grimaced at the tube shoved down her throat, but it was a necessary discomfort.

“How are you feeling?” He asked when he couldn’t take the silence anymore, turning back around towards the wall again.

“I’m fine.” Shiro replied, voice rough.

Shiro had inhaled some of it too, though not enough to cause any serious issues. He had a sore throat and slight nausea, but he was going to be just fine.

“Shiro?” A voice called, and Matt glanced at the doorway to see Keith. He was holding a clean shirt for Shiro.

Shiro stood up slowly, moving towards the dark-haired man and patting him gratefully on the shoulder. He took up the shirt and made his way to the attached bathroom to change.

“Any updates from the doctor?” Keith asked, moving to Allura’s bedside and hovering over her awkwardly.

“Nothing,” Matt replied, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He needed to do _something_ but-

There was nothing he _could_ do.

“The biohazard team are almost done cleaning up the room. The forensic team will be going over the what’s left of the package with a fine-toothed comb.” Keith turned to him with a fierce look. “We’ll find whoever did this.”

He looked up at Keith, giving him a grateful smile.

They would find out who did this.

And they would hunt them _down_.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days were tense as they waited for news on Allura.

They’d managed to track the origin of the package to a post office a few blocks away. Unfortunately, getting copies of the surveillance there was like pulling Excalibur from its stone. The post office was not being very cooperative, probably because they didn’t like being implicated in the poisoning of a police captain.

The days turned into weeks and still nothing happened. Everyone was on edge waiting on the confirmation that she was going to be okay. So far, there hadn’t been any other threats.

In the end, Allura had fought for her life and won, just as they all knew she would. She was all smiles for them whenever they visited and was excited to be getting back to work.

They still had no idea who sent the package.

They were determined to find out.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, my sweet Pidgey, you’re really living that sweet bachelor life.”

Pidge rolled her eyes as she hopped around the chaos of her apartment. Matt was pretty sure there was a floor under there…somewhere.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Sir Cheese-a-lot the Second made an appearance. He eyed a pile of clothes distrustfully.

“Don’t pretend your apartment wouldn’t look like this if you didn’t live with Mr. Clean.”

Matt gave a melodramatic sigh. “He beats me until I comply. Please save me.”

Pidge snorted. “I would if I didn’t know you probably like it.”

Matt tiptoed over towards the couch, perching delicately on the arm rest. “You want the juicy details of our sex life? I’m happy to share.”

“Please don’t,” Pidge muttered, climbing a bookshelf to reach something on top of it.

Apparently, Matt was just here for decoration or something. He crossed his legs primly, foot kicking an empty Chinese take-out box.

“He told me this harness thing wouldn’t fit.” He paused, chuckling. “I’ve never been so glad to be wrong before.”

“Can you just- stop?” Pidge groaned, snatching the envelope from atop her bookshelf and hopping back down. She landed on a box and it tipped over, vomiting electrical components all over the mess on the floor. Pidge flailed but managed not to fall with it.

Matt clapped his hands. “A perfect landing, ten out of ten.”

Pidge pretended she was a gymnast that just landed on the mat after a high-bar performance, throwing her hands in the air and tossing Matt a plastic-looking smile.

Matt mimed taking pictures of her. “A gold medal performance, if I ever saw one, ladies and gentlemen.”

Pidge preened for a moment before looking around. “I just need one more…there it is!” She hopped over some more junk, pulling out an external hard drive from the mountain.

“How did you even-?” Matt frowned, impressed. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go, Pidgeon! Your amazing brother is going to treat you to some delicious homemade food. And by that, I mean Hunk is bringing lunch in as a surprise for Allura on her first day back.”

“That makes me feel better.” Pidge said as they headed for her door. “Eating your food is like playing a game of Russian Roulette. I either live another day or die a horrible, vomit-inducing death.”

Matt grinned. Yeah, that was accurate.

As they neared Pidge’s car outside, she put out a hand to stop him. Matt tilted his head as she held up her key fob.

“I was playing around with some stuff and made my own car starter.” She smirked, entirely too pleased with herself. God, his sister was so smart.

“You are brilliant,” he gushed, entirely truthfully.

Pidge soaked up the praise, standing just a bit taller than she was before.

“Can I press the button?” Matt asked excitedly.

“Only if you promise not to talk about your sex life ever again.”

Matt pondered that. On the one hand, talking about Shiro was always the highlight of Matt’s day, but technology…

“I promise to not talk about it for an entire month.”

Pidge considered him. “That’s probably the best I’m gonna get.” She conceded, passing him the remote. “It’s the green button on the bottom.”

Cackling like a madman, Matt pointed the remote at the car. “Alohomora!”

Matt cheered as the car rumbled to life.

“Matt, that’s the spell to unlock a-“

A loud explosion cut through the air, nearly knocking Matt off his feet. He managed to catch Pidge before she fell over. Both of them stared wide-eyed at Pidge’s now flaming car. Matt winced as the bumper landed with a loud crash nearby.

“Umm...”

“Did that just happen?”

 “Are you sure you wired this right?”

Pidge’s glare was as cold as a frozen wasteland. “I’ve been using it for three weeks now. I did _not_ mess up the wiring.”

They stared some more as sirens blared in the distance. Bits of flames were still raining down around them, ash falling slowly to smoulder in the grass.

A cold tendril curled around Matt’s spine. Something was wrong here.

“We need to call the others.”


	5. Chapter 5

Shiro glanced at his watch.

Keith was late.

He looked around the sidewalk as people made their way past, scanning for a familiar head of unruly black hair. He shifted the to-go coffee cup from his left hand to his prosthetic. He’d gotten one for Keith and it was still really hot. At least his prosthetic was good for something.

A few more minutes ticked by. Shiro sighed, surreptitiously looking at his watch again.

It wasn’t like Keith to be late unless Lance was coming with him. Even still, Keith had been known to leave without his boyfriend instead of being late. He got that from Shiro who frequently took off just as Matt was dragging himself out of bed.

Punctuality was important, okay? As was consideration for other people’s ti-

Shiro blinked as his phone blared with Nicki Minaj’s ‘My Anaconda’. Goddammit Matt. Face red, he shifted the coffee back to his left hand while he fished his phone from his pocket. Of course, it was Matt.

“Stop messing with my ringtones,” Shiro said, using his shoulder to hold the phone so he could swap the coffee cup again. God, why was that coffee so damn hot? “Did you survive Pidge’s apartment?”

“Shiro,” Matt said and Shiro immediately straightened at his tone. “Is Keith with you?”

“No, he seems to be running late. I was supposed to meet him fifteen minutes ago. Matt, what’s going on?”

Shiro frowned as Matt swore softly. “Shiro, you need to find him. I’m going to get Lance and Pidge is off to grab Hunk.”

“What is this all about?” Shiro asked as he started heading towards the direction Keith would have come from, heart picking up speed at Matt’s serious concern.

“I don’t think Allura is a contained incident. Someone’s attacking us on purpose. Pidge’s car was rigged to explode when it was turned on.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “Are you guys-“

“Yeah, yeah we’re fine but I have a bad feeling about the others. Find Keith, okay?” And with that, Matt hung up.

Shiro immediately rang up Keith. He hurried down the street as the phone continued to ring, not hanging up until he got the voicemail. He was pretty sure Keith wouldn’t have bothered with his bike. The precinct wasn’t that far and Shiro had his car, so they would have driven together.

He continued on, glancing down every alley he passed by and scanning the crowd with increasingly frantic eyes.

His phone rang again, and he was so relieved to see Keith’s name he didn’t even have a chance to be annoyed with the heavy metal song currently screaming from his phone.

“Keith!”

“Shiro, I could use your help. I’m in the fifth alley on the right from the precinct.”

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked as he picked up the pace.

He could hear someone moaning and begging for mercy in the background. “I’m fine.” Keith said, voice calm and completely unruffled. He only sounded that calm after a good fight.

Shiro took in the scene as he rounded the corner into the alleyway.

Keith was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. At his feet lay four goons, all in varying states of disarray. One was still moaning but the other three were completely out cold. Shiro smiled.

“I guess you didn’t need my help.”

Keith looked over, lips twitching. “I learned from the best.”

Shiro stepped closer, looking over the group. “Is this all of them?”

“I think so.” Keith pushed away from the wall, nudging one of them with his boot. “They were waiting for me, though. Wouldn’t tell me who they worked for no matter what I did. Is that coffee for me?”

Shiro blinked. He’d forgotten he was carrying it. He was surprised he hadn’t spilled it in his haste to find Keith. Wordlessly, he handed it over.

Keith took a sip, eyes closing in bliss. After a moment, he turned to the one idiot that was still conscious. “You gonna tell us who you work for yet?”

“N-no,” the goon muttered petulantly.

Keith shrugged, pulling off the lid to his coffee and dumping it on the guy’s arm. The man howled in pain, squirming away.

Yeah, the coffee was really hot.

“Oops,” Keith muttered. His eyes were dangerous as he grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt and got right in his face. “You have five seconds to give us a name before I get angry. Five-”

The man’s eyes darted over to Shiro as if begging for help but Shiro just smiled at him pleasantly.

“I-”

“Four.“

“P-please!”

“Three.”

“Oh, God.”

“Two.”

“S-Sendak!”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt cursed as he shot down the street, sirens blaring. Lance wasn’t answering his phone. This wasn’t altogether unusual for the Cuban if he was sleeping or in the middle of a beauty routine, but every other time he was basically glued to his phone. He had the day off today, so he could have been pampering himself, but Matt’s gut told him it was something else.

Something bad.

He knew immediately that he was right when he noticed the smoke about a block away from Lance and Keith’s apartment. As he pulled up nearby, he was horrified to see the building engulfed in flames. A building of that size generally didn’t burn that well unless…

Unless someone had helped it along.

Matt was out of the car in seconds, running towards the blaze. He flashed his badge at the fireman that attempted to stop him.

“Details,” he demanded, shoving his badge back in his pocket.

The fireman pulled off his helmet, wiping his sleeve along his sweaty brow. “It’s definitely an arson job.” He started, nodding to his colleague that handed him a water bottle. “By the time we got here it was already engulfed. We couldn’t get to the upper levels.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat. “Any casualties?”

The man’s face fell. “We don’t know yet. Many people were able to get out, but if anyone is still inside…” he trailed off, face grim.

Matt swallowed.

“Those who managed to escape are over there.” The man nodded to the line of ambulances down the street. “Some are being treated for smoke inhalation and bur-“

“Adam!” A voice called out and the fireman looked over. “We need you over here.”

Adam clapped Matt on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Matt watched him jog back to his colleagues, pulling his helmet back on as the smoke and ash continued to swirl around them. The air was suffocating, full of moisture from the hoses that left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

Matt covered his face with his sleeve, jogging towards the ambulances.

He didn’t know what he would do if Lance was-

The group of people huddled around the ambulances was frighteningly small. He hoped that was mostly due to the time of day and not that so many people hadn’t escaped. Many of them were covered in blankets. Matt scanned their faces nervously, straining to see facial features around the soot.

He- he couldn’t see Lance.

“Ma’am, we need your girl to let him go,” A paramedic said soothingly, a Matt looked over to see Shay standing by a stretcher. A young child was clutching onto the hand of the person in the stretcher, tears streaming down her face and cutting through the ash.

“I’m so sorry. Inara, let him go sweetie.”

The little girl shook her head stubbornly, squeezing the hand tighter.

“Hey,” the person on the stretcher rasped and Matt paused. “I’ll be back.”

The kid pouted cutely, but eventually let him go. “Promise me, Lancey!”

The body on the stretcher coughed painfully, clearly struggling with a bad case of smoke inhalation. As he sat up slightly, Matt was able to see Lance. He was covered in ash and his shirt was ripped. He didn’t look like he was suffering from any burns, but his voice…

“I p-promise,” he managed to choke out.

Matt stumbled forward, skirting around an elderly woman and two cats.

“Lance!” He called out, stopping to grip the edge of the stretcher.

Lance’s blue eyes widened. “Matt? What are-” He cut himself off with a harsh cough, breath rattling behind the oxygen mask on his face. He sagged back down onto the stretcher, exhausted.

Shay carefully readjusted the mask more securely over his face.

“Someone is coming after us. I came to check in on you but…I’m sorry.” He clenched his fists tightly around the bars.

Lance blinked at him slowly, as if having trouble following what he was saying. Shay carefully pulled the stretcher towards the ambulance, smiling at her partner as she helped secure Lance in the back cab.

“Are you coming with us?” Shay asked, and Matt nodded, hopping into the back.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Shay patted Lance gently on the head. “He inhaled a lot of smoke helping the others on his floor escape, but he’s going to be okay with treatment.”

Matt sagged with relief as the ambulance rumbled to life.

“Matt…” Lance’s voice was just barely a whisper as he struggled to breath, fingers clutching the back of Matt’s jacket.

Matt turned to him, leaning over the stretcher.

“K-Keith?” Lance muttered, eyes half closed as he coughed once more.

Matt’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t heard back from Shiro. Keith might be-

He gave Lance his best smile. “He’s fine.”

It was the right choice. Lance’s entire body relaxed, and he let his hand fall back onto the bed.

Matt watched him carefully for a moment. This had been too close. Pidge’s explosion had been too close. Hell, Allura’s anthrax surprise had put her on death’s door.

How long before someone didn’t make it?

He grabbed his phone.

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiro and Keith barrelled into the precinct.

“Hunk!” Keith called out, startling a few citizens that had come in to speak to officers.

“We’re here!” Hunk poked his head out of the lunch room, Pidge following shortly after.

“Thank God,” Shiro sighed, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. If the situation wasn’t so dire, it would be amusing how awful Sendak was at killing them. He immediately felt guilty at the thought. Matt was rubbing off on him. “Have you heard from Matt? He was going to check on Lance.”

“Nothing yet,” Pidge sighed, shaking her head.

Shiro scanned the others. Pidge and Hunk looked fine and though Keith was a little dishevelled he’d come out of his ordeal relatively unscathed. It was a miracle.

“I’m just glad that no one is hurt,” Hunk said, looking around. “No one is hurt, right?”

“We’re fine, Hunk.” Keith managed to give him a small smile.

“Matt went to check on Lance, I’m sure h-”

Shiro paused as his phone jingled with ‘My Anaconda Don’t’ again. Keith gave him an odd look as Hunk laughed. Shaking his head, Shiro answered the phone. “Matt.”

“Shiro, I’m on my way to the hospital with Lance.”

Shiro straightened his shoulders. “Is he okay?” Around him, the others froze, watching him intently.

“Ah…” Matt paused and Shiro could hear the sound of traffic around him. “He inhaled a lot of smoke. His building was on fire. Paramedics think he’s going to be okay, though.”

Shiro sagged with relief. “We’ll come meet you, which hospital?”

“Altea Memorial, can someone grab my car? I left it at Lance’s.”

“I’ll get it. Stay safe, okay?”

“You too. I love you.”

Shiro’s heart melted. “I love you too.” There was a quiet click as Matt hung up.

Keith looked at him, fists clenched. “Lance?”

Shiro took a deep breath. “He’s on his way to the hospital. Smoke inhalation.”

The others exploded into chatter, voices cutting over one another in their haste to ask questions. Keith cut through them all.

“I’m going.” He said, voice quiet but shaking with emotion.

Shiro nodded. “Pidge, take Keith there straight away. Hunk, I need you to take me to Lance’s so we can pick up Matt’s car.” He paused, putting his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “He’s going to be okay.”

Keith swallowed carefully before taking off, Pidge on his heels.

Everything was going to be fine.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nothing was fine.

Lotor crouched behind his car. “We’re being _shot_ at!”

Matt rolled his eyes as he reloaded his pistol. “No way, I had _no_ idea! Thank you _so much_ for pointing that out to me!”

“I’m just saying-”

“Guys, let’s not do this right now.” Shiro said, ever the voice of reason. He was carefully peering over the hood of the car, gun at the ready.

When Lotor had reached out to them for help, Shiro and Matt had not been expecting…this. They’d left the hospital to find the informant only to get pinned down by an unknown assailant with a shit ton of bullets. Jesus Christ, no one had thought Sendak would include Lotor in his attack.

In hindsight, they probably should have seen this coming.

“Shiro and I live an exciting life,” Matt said, poking his head around the bumper only to snatch it back as a gunshot reverberated down the street.

Lotor frowned. “I was with the Galra. I think I would know-”

“And I understand this can be terrifying for someone who has never experienced a gun fight before.”

“I _just_ said I was part of a gang. Why would y-”

“Furthermore, Shiro gets all protective and rumbly when this kind of thing happens, and it totally gets me going, you know what I’m saying?”

“Matt!” Shiro hissed, shooting him an exasperated look.

It was okay, Matt could see right through it to the truth.

”I mean, I’m not saying I don’t enjoy throwing him down and having my wicked way with him-”

Lotor choked. “I don’t really need to know thi-”

“But every once in awhile it’s nice to turn the tables. Speaking of tables, we have this one in our kitchen that is juuuust the right height fo-”

“Please stop.”

“Matt,” Shiro sighed, ducking his head back behind the hood. “Please just unload your bullets on the gunman.”

Matt couldn’t stop the undoubtedly enormous grin stretching across his face. “I’ll unload all over you, baby.”

“Matt!”

“Sorry, honey cakes, you kinda walked right into that one.”

Lotor nodded. “You really did.”

Shiro groaned. “Can we please just…finish this?”

Matt winked. “I’d like to fini-SHIT!”

He shoved Lotor hard, falling onto him in his haste as a spray of machine gun bullets smashed through the remains of the windows. Glass rained down on them like a thousand sharp raindrops. They could do nothing more than cower as the shooter emptied what had to be an entire magazine on the poor, beat up police vehicle.

After a moment, silence reigned.

“Is everyone okay?” Shiro asked, shifting.

“I’ll be fine once backup decides to get up off their asses and fucking _do their jobs,_ ” Matt sighed, pushing himself off of Lotor. The other man gave him a thankful look which Matt chose to ignore.

They waited and when no further gunfire shot through the street, Matt dared to peek his head around.

Nothing.

Did the shooter take off?

“Here comes backup.” Shiro said, nodding his head down the street where a bunch of SWAT and police vehicles were making their way over.

“Fashionably late, of course.”

As they were pulled to safety, Matt scanned over Shiro who seemed a bit too quiet. He looked uninjured, if a little dirty and scuffed up from their ordeal. Matt grinned.

“Hey, Lotor,” He said, moving towards Shiro. “Want some tickets to the _gun show_?” He grabbed Shiro’s arms, lifting them up to display his biceps.

Lotor looked like he was regretting every decision he’d ever made in his life.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Shiro said in that tone that warned Matt to stop. He carefully lowered his arms and Matt didn’t miss the wince. His body snapped to attention.

“Where?” He demanded, narrowing his eyes at Shiro.

“What?”

“Takashi.”

Shiro sighed. “It’s just a scratch, don’t worry.”

Matt shook his head, gripping Shiro’s shirt. “Take it off.”

“Matt-“

“Takashi.”

Shiro’s lips twitched into a fond smile and he carefully removed his shirt, turning so Matt could see the cut on his right side. Ouch. Looked like a bullet had grazed the skin there. It wasn’t deep, thankfully, but still should be treated to prevent infection. He peered at it.

“This might need some stitches.” He glared up at Shiro. “Go see the paramedic.”

Shiro opened his mouth, probably to argue, but he saw Matt’s face and deflated. “Okay.”

Matt gave him a pleased smile. He leaned up to press a kiss to chapped lips. “Go.”

Matt watched as Shiro headed over to the paramedics, not taking his eyes off him until the paramedics had sat the stubborn ass down and pulled out their equipment.

“You care for each other a lot,” Lotor said suddenly and Matt had to physically stop himself from jumping. He’d forgotten the other man was there.

“Yeah,” He grinned.

Lotor gave him a contemplative look, but otherwise stayed silent.

Matt didn’t bother elaborating. It would take too long to explain what they were to each other. He doubted Lotor would understand.

How could he explain that Shiro was his everything?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Have we finished checking all the surveillance around the post office?” Shiro asked, sitting on the edge of Pidge’s desk.

“We’ve looked at everything, Shiro, but we just can’t find who dropped off that package,” Pidge sighed, letting her head fall into her hands.

“Hey, don’t worry, kiddo,” Shiro said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Takashi Shirogane?” A voice called from the door.

Shiro looked up, taking in the group of black-suited men and women standing at the entryway. He frowned, standing up from Pidge’s desk and taking a step towards them.

“That’s me,” He said, raising his hand. “Can I help you?”

One of the men stepped forward, lips thinning into a grimace. He held up his badge, showing he was from the FBI. “Mr. Shirogane, you’re under arrest for the murder of Jake Sendak and for the disappearance and potential murder of your partner, Matthew Holt.”

Shiro felt his blood run cold. “W-what?”

“What’s the meaning of this!?” Allura yelled, stomping from her office towards the group of FBI agents.

“Shiro wouldn’t murder someone,” Keith growled.

“Where is my brother?” Pidge demanded, looking furious.

“The evidence is clear. As is the large pool of blood we found in your apartment, Mr. Shirogane. Blood that belongs to your partner, Mr. Holt. Cooperate with us, detective. We’d like to take you in for questioning.”

The room swayed around Shiro at an alarming rate. Matt was gone? He’d just gotten a text from him an hour ago. He frowned. “I-no. That can’t be right. I-” Dazedly, he reached for his phone, preparing to call Matt’s number.

“Take him down!” One of the agents yelled, seconds before Shiro was tackled to the floor.

His head smashed into the linoleum, making the room spin even faster. Before he could really register what was happening, the FBI agent had him pinned to the floor, securing handcuffs around his wrists. They roughly pulled him to his feet, hands gripping his arms tightly.

Vaguely, he could hear people yelling. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion as they started to drag him away. Pidge was struggling to get to him, nearly punching one of the agents in the face. Keith was being held back by Allura, fire sparking in his furious eyes. Hunk looked on, horrified.

Shiro’s mind could only process one thing.

Where was Matt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, Matt, what is you doing? :P


	6. Chapter 6

Matt awoke to darkness.

Immediately, terror overwhelmed him, crushing his chest in a vice. Memories crashed into him so strongly he lost his breath.

_He could hear his breath stutter in his throat as he hastily felt around himself. It didn't take long to realize he was trapped in a very small box of some kind, only slightly bigger than his own body. The top of the box was only inches from his face. It was so close, he could feel his breath bouncing back on his mouth._

He was back. He never escaped that box. He was _suffocating_.

Frantically, his fingers scrambled at the-

What?

Where he expected lacquered wood, his fingers scraped along empty air. Shaking uncontrollably, he sat up. No matter how many times he squeezed his eyes open and closed, the darkness remained absolute. He couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face.

Where? Where was he?

He took a few gulping breaths, in for three, out for seven. Or something like that. He was having trouble concentrating on the count, numbers jumbling together in a mess of apprehension.

He could feel a slight breeze in his hair, but for the life of him he couldn’t see where it was coming from. As soon as he felt he could stand, he made to get up only for his body to tilt sideways and pain to sear through his skull like a jagged knife. Nausea welled in his gut and he was certain the room would be spinning if he could just fucking _see_ it.

Fighting both the nausea and the anxiety proved to be too much and he leaned over, vomiting onto the floor. He could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Groaning, Matt reached up to his head to gently prod at the most tender area. Sure enough, his fingers came away wet as a shooting stab of agony sent his stomach rolling again.

Maybe he shouldn’t poke a head wound.

How did he get here? Last thing he remembered was getting off early. He’d planned to surprise Shiro with a nice dinner and maybe cuddle on the couch to watch Nailed It and pretend they could do better. After that, his mind was blank.

Great, a concussion on top of everything else.

Slowly, carefully, Matt shuffled across the floor, careful to avoid the mess he’d left. It took him several steps to reach a wall and a few more before he hit a corner. His shoulders relaxed somewhat at the discovery that his prison wasn’t a tiny closet. He felt around the walls until he found a door which was, unsurprisingly, locked.

Whatever was happening right now did not bode well for Matt. He had a feeling maybe Sendak had captured him to use him against Shiro. That was…

Not good.

Well fuck that noise. Matt wasn’t just going to sit around waiting like a damsel in distress. He settled down on the back end of the door. If someone came through, he would be ready.

_Don’t worry, Shiro, I’m not going down without a fight._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why don’t you make this easier for yourself and just tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro replied, fighting to keep his voice steady. They’d already been in here for an hour. An hour that he could have been spending finding Matt. It wouldn’t do to break down now. “I didn’t do anything.”

Special Agent Iverson stared at him with an impassive eye from across the interrogation room table. There was no kindness there. Shiro’s heart broke a little at that. Iverson was his prior captain for years before he was promoted to the FBI. Iverson knew him. He _knew_ him.

“Shiro,” Iverson sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.”

Shiro leaned forward in his chair, causing his handcuffs to jangle loudly. “I _am_ telling you the truth. You need to let me go. If Matt is missing, I _need_ to find him.”

Iverson watched him, face grim. “Shiro, Matt is dead.”

Shiro’s heart clenched painfully. “He’s not.”

“He’s dead and you did it. Just tell me.”

“He’s _not_!” Shiro bellowed, standing up so forcefully his chair crashed to the floor.

Iverson didn’t even flinch, dark eye steady on Shiro as he panted heavily. Slowly, Iverson got to his feet. He walked around the table towards the fallen chair.

“ _Please_ , Mitch,” Shiro whispered, hands clenched tightly on the table.

Iverson grabbed the chair and shoved it back towards Shiro. Calmly, he stalked back to his own chair and sat down.

“You will call me Agent or Iverson. I don’t allow murderers to call me by my first name,” He said coldly.

Shiro could feel his stomach sink. This couldn’t be happening. Iverson had been like a father to him, back when he was a rookie detective. Was it that easy for him to forget that?

Shiro slowly sat back down in his chair.

“Can you account for your whereabouts on the night of Wednesday, August the twenty-first?” Iverson asked, voice loud in the quiet room.

Shiro stared at his clenched hands. “I was with Matt.”

“How convenient,” Iverson growled, picking up the folder next to him on the table. “We located Sendak’s body on Thursday morning. He was found in the same park you investigated for those drug murders a year ago. Burned.”

He threw a few photos onto the table.

Shiro’s eyes flicked over the pictures. Sendak was nearly unrecognizable thanks to the extensive burns covering the majority of his body. Shiro could just make out the prosthetic and the burnt remains of an eyepatch covering his eye. It was almost exactly the same as the body of Brian Beezer, fledgling drug dealer killed by Sendak and an unknown accomplice. Shiro looked up at Iverson.

“We know you have a history with him, Shiro,” Iverson continued, leaning back in his chair casually. “He hurt you, I get it. I would want revenge too.”

Shiro remained silent. Only part of him was paying attention to Iverson. The rest was devoted to Matt’s disappearance. He wasn’t dead. Shiro wasn’t even going to entertain that thought.

“He was a bad guy. The world is better for his absence,” Iverson continued, linking his fingers behind his head. “Was he dead before or because he was burned?”

“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t kill him,” Shiro said, voice monotonous.

Iverson watched him. He gave a huff of amusement. “Shiro. We know your history with Sendak. We know your history with the Galra. You spent over a year in their company. That kind of exposure could tempt someone.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “You might want to decide your angle before you start an interrogation. Are the Galra my enemy or my friends? You can’t quite seem to decide.”

Iverson showed the first sign of anger as his lips thinned in annoyance.

“I’m just saying, someone with your history with gangs, your drug addict-”

“I’m not addicted. I’ve been clean for years.”

Iverson smirked. “Not as I know it. Didn’t you get dosed just a year ago?”

Shiro felt cold fury wash over him and he clenched his teeth. “That wasn’t by choice.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” Iverson shrugged, standing up from his chair. “Your DNA was found all over the crime scene, Shiro. Hairs, blood, skin particles, the whole nine yards. There’s no denying you killed him. The only question is what you did with Detective Holt.”

Shiro frowned. DNA? How was his DNA all over the crime scene? He might wish Sendak was dead, but he didn’t kill him. Someone was framing him, it was the only answer. But who?

Shiro’s mind raced, trying to put all the clues together. He was missing something obvious, he could feel it.

Iverson slapped a few more photos onto the table. Shiro glanced at them and felt the blood rush from his face. The photos were of his and Matt’s apartment. It looked like a hurricane had barrelled through the living room. Their bookshelves were knocked over, books spewed all over the laminate floor. The coffee table was in pieces. Their flat screen was cracked and hung precariously from its stand on the wall. Shiro took all of that in but what kept his attention was the large pool of blood on the floor, soaking into the rug. There were signs of someone being dragged through it.

Iverson put a hand on one of the photos, fingers framing the blood-soaked rug. He leaned in to Shiro’s face, eye intense and sharp. “Where’s the body, Shiro?”

Shiro looked up at Iverson, heart racing with fear. This whole interrogation was a waste of _time_. He needed to find Matt. He couldn’t sit here defending his innocence when his partner was hurt. He needed to get to him. “Iverson, I-“

“What did you do with it, Shiro?” Iverson demanded, hand crinkling the photo in his grip.

“He’s not-”

“He _is_! _You_ did it! Where. Is. The. Body?” Iverson roared, slamming his fist on the table with a startling bang.

“ _He is_ not _dead_!” Shiro snarled, glaring daggers at the FBI agent.

“Was it jealousy, Shiro? Were you mad that he was off gallivanting with that adviser, Lotor?” Iverson bellowed, so close that Shiro could feel spittle splash on his face.

Shiro blinked, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “What?”

Iverson leaned back. “Your colleagues at the precinct seem to think your friend Lotor is interested in your boyfriend. You found out he was cheating on you and you just snapped, didn’t you?”

Shiro gave Iverson a confused look. “Matt would never cheat on me.”

“You don’t know th-“

“I know it,” Shiro interrupted. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life. He could feel an epiphany exploding in his brain, connecting the dots with startling swiftness.

“I don’t-”

“But it would make sense for Lotor to want everyone to believe that.” Shiro’s mind raced. “Lotor was always interested in Matt. I don’t blame him, Matt’s amazing. But he was especially interested in Matt’s inventions…”

Iverson stepped away from him. “I don’t see what this has to do with anythi-”

“The lock! Matt designed that locking system for the government-”

“You’re changing the subject here. I-”

Shiro’s head snapped up. “I want a lawyer.”

Iverson stared at him before slowly shaking his head. “No.”

Shiro blinked. “What?”

“You don’t get a lawyer, Shiro.”

“That’s illegal. I’m entitled to an attorne-” Shiro cut himself off, staring at Iverson in shock. The hairs raised on the back of his neck. His eyes darted to the surveillance camera in the corner only to see there was no light indicating it was on. He turned back to Iverson, dread sinking into his stomach like a ball of lead. “How long have you been working with the Galra?”

Iverson gave him an impressed look. “You always were quick to put two and two together.”

No. No, this wasn’t happening. Shiro felt like the room was crumbling to pieces around him. Iverson was with the Galra? His mentor? All this time?

Iverson drew his sidearm, slowly loading bullets into the chamber.

“It’s a shame. I didn’t want to have to kill you,” he sighed, almost managing to look regretful. “I should have known you’d figure it out.”

Shiro’s heart raced. He needed to get out of here.

“The Galra pay very well for informants, particularly those of us within positions of power. Sometimes they give me a task. Silence this person. Give us information on that person. Dispose of this evidence. It’s usually easy work with a lot of reward.” He pressed the safety off his gun. “It’s your fault I lost the Commissioner’s position all those years ago.”

Shiro’s eyes widened in fury. “ _You_? You arranged the kidnap of Commissioner Holt?”

Iverson grinned. “It was only a bonus that Matt happened to be there when it happened. Of course, I had no idea that was where _you_ were working undercover. Either way, the Galra were very pleased. Call it a happy coincidence.”

Shiro snarled viciously, trying to lunge at Iverson but his hands were still shackled to the table. He hunched awkwardly over it, fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

“It worked out for me in the end. I managed to get into the FBI. An even better position. Now, Zarkon is dead and Haggar is in prison and can’t seem to figure out how to escape the locking mechanism your partner came up with. That means it’s my turn to take over. Sendak was a threat so…I got rid of him.”

Iverson pointed the gun at Shiro, hand steady. The gun was only a foot away. There was no way he was going to miss.

“You’ll make the perfect scapegoat for Sendak’s murder.”

“If you shoot me everyone will know you’re crooked.” Shiro’s eyes darted around the room searching for something, _anything_ that might help him. Sweat dripped down his temple, slicked up his hands.

“I’ll tell them you attacked me and I was forced to shoot you. No one would blame me. You’re a vicious killer anyway.”

Shiro could do nothing but watch as Iverson’s finger squeezed the trigger.

BANG!

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Matt came to the second time, he was strapped to what he could only assume was a chair. He struggled against the straps, heart pounding in terror as memories assaulted him from all sides.

_Cold hands gripping his face. His father’s unconscious body. Shiro, staring at him impassively, dark eyes closed off. Don’t give him away, don’t give him away, don’t-_

_Agony, searing through his fingers like needles, pushing through the fog._

_Shiro’s agonized eyes as he pressed the button._

_Painpainpainpainpain-_

Matt gasped, clenching his eyes shut against the darkness. At least this way he could pretend the lack of vision was due to his own choice and not by some asshole’s design.

Fuck.

He hadn’t had to go back to that moment for a long time.

It sucked.

He couldn’t remember how he got in the chair. Had he passed out? Was it from the head wound or something else? 

Matt wasn’t sure how long he sat alone in the dark, desperately humming a Disney tune to distract himself from memories. He was getting increasingly tired, but he was hesitant to sleep with his head injury.

It couldn’t be good for him to get so many concussions in a year.

Well, he certainly had IQ points to spare.

He let his fingers drum against the armrest as he tilted his head back to rest on the back of the chair. Surely they wouldn’t…they wouldn’t just leave him here to slowly starve to death. Would they? Anxiety crawled through his stomach like a thousand spiders, leaving him shivering.

No. No. They probably wanted something from him.

As if they were listening to his thoughts, the television at the other end of the room blinked into life. Matt squinted against the sudden onslaught, eyes watering. What? Who-

“Lotor,” he growled, fists clenching. Seriously?

“Detective. I hope the room is to your liking?”

“Oh yeah, I love being put in pitch dark rooms, tied to chairs without my friends and while fighting a head injury. Truly you’re running a five-star hotel here, buddy.”

Lotor chuckled, clearly indulging him. Fucking asshole.

“I’m trying to do the world a service, though something tells me you won’t see it that way.”

For once, Matt kept his mouth shut, settling on his most menacing glare instead.

Behind Lotor, another figure moved into view of the camera. Matt’s heart skipped a beat. “Romelle!” He said, before he could stop himself.

The girl nearly dropped the tray she was holding, body going stiff with surprise. He could hear the sound of chains jingling with her movement as she shuffled closer but kept a careful distance from Lotor.

Matt leaned forward. “My partner and I have been looking for you! Your brother reported you missing. He-“

Lotor shot a look at Romelle over his shoulder and she flinched, backing away. Matt’s heart sank right up until he saw the glare she aimed at Lotor when he turned back to him.

She had some spark to her, then.

He could work with that.

Matt stared hard at Romelle, letting his fingers slowly tap out the four-digit password to his cell phone. He had no idea if she’d pick something like that up, but he had to try. “My partner Shiro and I are from the 98th precinct. We spoke to your brother. We had such a hard time finding your apartment, I had to use the GPS on _my phone_ -”

Lotor shook his head. “Enough. I think we’re getting off to the wrong start here. I’m sorry that I was forced to act…violently in order to bring you here. If I had thought you would listen to me, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such barbaric acts. Yes, you do have something I want, but I’m willing to trade.”

Matt continued to tap out the code. Was he just imagining Romelle’s eyes following his movements? “I only accept pre-paid credit cards and 24-packs of coke.”

Lotor gave him an unimpressed look. “I was talking about something you _desperately_ want to know about.”

Matt rolled his eyes, shifting slightly in his chair in an attempt to stretch his legs. “I doubt that.”

The smile that spread across Lotor’s beautiful face sent a warning shiver down Matt’s spine. That was not the look of someone who didn’t know what they were doing. That was the look of someone who was already planning three steps ahead of you. It was pure, unadulterated confidence that Matt would want whatever it was he was offering. Even Romelle seemed to sense something because she backed up even further.

Matt eyed Lotor warily, body stiff.

Lotor leaned closer to the camera. “Shiro.”

Panic jolted through Matt like a bullet, causing him to forget to tap out his password.

“What have you done to him?!” He demanded.

Lotor laughed. “It’s not what _I’ve_ done to him. It’s what _they_ did to him.”

Matt’s eyes widened in horror. Was he…was he talking about-

“The Champion was truly the best fighter the Galra had ever seen in those cage matches. He’s a legend. And I have copies of all his battles.”

Lotor kept talking, but all Matt could hear was static. All of Shiro’s fights? Every single one? How many were there? How many times had he been forced to kill? How many times had he almost died?

God, Matt wanted to _know_.

He wanted to know what Shiro had gone through. Maybe if he knew what had happened, he could help. Maybe he could-

“No.”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t break Shiro’s trust so thoroughly.

Lotor blinked at him, clearly surprised that he had turned it down. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

Lotor’s eyes narrowed, the first crack in a mask so perfect it was shocking to finally _notice_ it. After a moment, his face smoothed out. Not good. “Ah, I see. Loyalty. Trust. You feel like you’ll be betraying him if you watch them.”

Matt desperately tried to keep his face blank.

“He’d _hate_ it if you saw them, wouldn’t he?” Lotor smiled, leaning back in his chair. “It would kill him if he knew you saw what he became in there. Do you know how many he killed?”

No.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He wasn’t going to listen to this. He wasn’t going to just sit here while Lotor brazenly chatted about Shiro’s trauma like he was discussing what show to watch on Netflix.

Fuck Lotor. Fuck the Galra.

“Why don’t you just get to the point, Lotor? What do you want?” He snarled.

Lotor leaned forward in his chair. “Fine, let’s get down to business. I want the schematics for your locking system. The one you designed for the government.”

Matt blinked.. “Why would you need that?”

“Your locks are making it exceedingly difficult for certain important people to escape prison,” Lotor sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “I will admit that it is truly an impressive feat.”

Matt didn’t even acknowledge the flattery. “If you think I’m going to help you, you’re clearly more stupid than you look.”

Lotor just smiled. “You and your precinct have been helping me for some time, Matt.”

The brunette froze and Romelle’s eyes widened.

“You helped me remove my father from Galra leadership.”

His…father?

“You helped me take down anyone that could potentially take that throne away from me.”

How-

“And now you will help me free my mother from prison so we can lead the Galra in a new age of underworld crime the likes of which the world has never seen.”

They’d been played.

Fuck.

“You are such a drama queen. You sound like a cheesy James Bond villain, did you know that?” Matt sneered, trying to cover up his overwhelming shock at what Lotor was revealing.

The taunt didn’t even faze Lotor. He slowly got up from his chair, moving towards Romelle with predatory grace. She stared at him in terror, hands drawn up in front of her chest.

“I think you will help me. You’ll help me because if you don’t,” Lotor paused, fingers gently running through Romelle’s blonde locks before suddenly gripping them tightly. Romelle winced. “I’ll be sending her to your friends…in pieces.”

Matt glared, heart pounding.

What the hell was he going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Iverson.


	7. Chapter 7

Iverson had made one fatal mistake.

He got too close.

_BANG!_

Shiro did the only thing he could think of. He kicked out at the last second, striking Iverson’s hand. The bullet soared into the ceiling, plaster raining down onto the floor. The gun flew from Iverson’s hand as it went off, clacking loudly on the table and skidding across it.

Iverson dived for the gun and Shiro planted his handcuffed hands firmly on the table, vaulting himself onto it. He had to bend at an awkward angle, but he managed to nudge the gun with his foot so it was close enough to reach with his hands.

It wasn’t the most strategic position and he couldn’t aim the gun properly, but it did make Iverson pause. He glared at Shiro.

“Are you going to kill me, Shiro?” He whispered. “You’ll never escape here. You’ll just be adding to your charges. The gunshot has likely already alerted my colleagues.”

“You’ve probably made arrangements for some privacy. I’m sure I have some time. And as much as I’d like you to die, I want you to suffer more. I’ve been to jail. I can think of no better place for you.”

“You’ll never prove an-“

“Where is Matt?” Shiro demanded, voice so cold it could have frozen the sun.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t even be here.”

Shiro snarled. “Don’t give me that-“

The door slammed open with a startling bang. Iverson and Shiro froze.

Ulaz and Thace barrelled into the room with more grace than should have been possible. Ulaz’s sharp eyes took in the scene, a bevy of emotions swirling as he pulled out his own gun followed by his partner shortly after. “Put the gun down, Shiro.”

Stomach dropping somewhere in the vicinity of his boots, Shiro slowly placed the gun on the table, nudging it gently towards the FBI agent.

Iverson leaned forward imploringly. “Ulaz, Thace, I’m so happy you’re-“

“Stop.” The other man cut him off, voice soft and yet oozing with command.

Shiro watched as Thace calmly moved towards him. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this. All of this was wasting _time_. Matt could be getting hurt at this very moment. Shiro’s muscles tensed as Thace drew near, ready to spring into action and-

Thace winked and Shiro froze.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t find out, Iverson?” Ulaz said quietly, the tension so high Shiro could feel it pressing down on him. He dared to hope.

Iverson shook his head slowly, eye narrowed. “What are you talking about? Detain this suspect, he tried to shoot me!”

Ulaz took a step closer to Iverson. “Or was he defending himself, I wonder?”

Iverson scowled. “You’ve always had a soft spot for him, Ulaz, don’t let it blind you to the obvious.”

Thace let out a huff of breath as he snatched up the extra gun and turned off the safety. “Obvious? How about how obvious you’ve been in your dealings with the Galra, Iverson?”

Shiro watched as sweat began to bead on Iverson’s forehead.

“I would never work with the Galra.” He said, teeth gritted as Ulaz took another step towards him.

“We’ve been watching you for months.” Thace put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “You’ve rigged this interrogation room so you could turn off the cameras at will.”

“Thankfully, we put our own in here so we could see what you were up to,” Ulaz added. He pointed his gun at Iverson as he pulled out a set of handcuffs. “You were very busy. ’Silence this person. Give information on that person. Dispose of this evidence.‘” Iverson’s eye widened as Ulaz repeated his earlier words.

“A lot of reward for little effort, wasn’t it?” Thace's smile did not reach his eyes.

Ulaz opened the handcuffs. “Hands on your head, you know the drill.”

Iverson sprung into action, moving to escape out the open door. He only made it one step before Ulaz shot him in the knee. He crashed to the floor with a cry of pain and Ulaz was on him in seconds, pinning him to the floor and securing his wrists with handcuffs.

“You okay?” Thace asked casually, as if there wasn’t a senior FBI agent screaming and kicking in the background. Shiro glanced at him.

“Can’t complain.”

Thace’s lips twitched into a slight smile.

Ulaz tossed a bundle of keys to Thace who carefully unlocked Shiro’s handcuffs. Shiro rubbed his wrists as they fell away, giving Thace a grateful smile.

After securing Iverson to the leg of the table, Shiro turned to Ulaz.

“That’s two I owe you now.”

Ulaz’s smile was warm. “I’m not keeping count.”

Shiro nodded, face turning serious. “We don’t have much time. Lotor has Matt.”

Ulaz’s eyes sharpened. “Do you know where?”

Shiro shook his head.

“Your friends are downstairs. Let’s see if we can’t figure this out,” Ulaz said, moving towards the door. He glanced at Thace.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.” The other agent gave them both a nod. “Something tells me we don’t have much time.”

Shiro had a feeling he was right.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt took a few deep breaths, trying to get his brilliant brain to fucking _work_. Lotor had decided to let him stew for a bit, knowing Romelle’s life was dependant on his willingness to cooperate. What was he going to do?

He needed to get out of here.

He needed to get _Romelle_ out of here.

He sighed, letting his head bump gently into the chair. He was so tired. His head was killing him. He was thirsty. He was hungry.

He had to fucking pee.

He wanted to go home.

His mind was still reeling over Lotor’s revelation. Zarkon had been his father? Haggar was his mother? He felt so _stupid_. How could they not have seen that? Lotor was very, _very_ good at putting on a flawless mask. He was handsome, charismatic and intelligent. The perfect combination for any criminal mastermind.

Matt chuckled to himself. He couldn’t figure out Matt’s locking system, though.

Still got it, Holt.

Matt tensed as the television burst back in to life. He expected Lotor’s sneering face to be staring down at him, but he was surprised to see Romelle nervously standing by the camera. He sat up straight, golden-brown eyes wide.

“Romel-“

“Shhh!” She hissed, face really close to the camera as she whispered. Matt’s mouth closed with a quiet clack. “He’s gone out for some reason, but I don’t know when he’ll be back. He likely won’t be gone for long. I have your phone.”

Matt nodded as she held up his cell phone. The battery was nearly dead. How long had he been here? It couldn’t have been more than a day since he hadn’t been given any food or water.

“You need to get a message to my partner, Shiro. Do you know where we are?”

Romelle’s eyes darted fearfully to the right, chains jingling as she punched in the password Matt had tapped out to her. “I need to know that your partner will save my brother.”

Matt frowned. “What?”

“My brother, Bandor. He has him captive too, as a way to make sure I’ll help him.”

“What does he need you for, Romelle?”

Romelle scrolled through Matt’s contacts, eyes searching for Shiro. “Haggar is being held in a female-only prison. He can’t get in without being noticed.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “With his hair? He could totally pull it off.”

Romelle stared at him like he’d grown two heads and started doing an Irish jig.

“Sorry. It’s a coping mechanism. Anyway, Lotor doesn’t have your brother, I promise you.”

Romelle’s head darted up to blink at him. “What?”

“I spoke to him just the other day, he is still searching for you. When you send a message to Shiro, tell him to get your brother into protective custody. Whatever happens here might cause Lotor to retaliate.”

“I-” She cut herself off with a terrified squeak.

“Romelle?”

“He’s here!” She whispered, hand reaching forward to shut off the screen.

Matt’s hope withered as he was plunged back into complete darkness.

This was not good.

Time was up.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Shiro saw when he stepped out into the FBI lobby was a green blur rushing at him. Pidge collided with him, arms wrapping around his waist in an iron grip. He quickly returned the embrace.

“He’s missing again,” she mumbled into his shirt, sounding so small.

He rubbed the top of her head. “We’ll find him. It’s only a matter of-”

Shiro stopped as his cell phone chimed out Britney Spear’s ‘Oops I Did It Again’. He couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed with Matt as he scrambled to pull the phone from his pocket.

_SOS. Check GPS. Place Bandor Davila in protective custody. Hurry. Ltor._

Shiro immediately switched to ‘Find My Friends’ and he sagged as a dot appeared on his map. “Matt’s sent us a signal.” He said, quickly taking a screenshot of the map.

Keith peered over Shiro’s shoulder. “Who is Bandor?”

“That’s the brother of that missing girl, Romelle.” Allura said, already heading for the door.

Shiro nodded, following after her. “We need someone to get him in protective custody. Romelle must have something to do with all this.”

“I will get him if you send me his info,” Ulaz said quietly, nodding to Pidge as she sent him a quick text with the details. “Good luck.”

Shiro didn’t even wait to watch him go, following Keith as he led him to his police car. It was just the four of them and an unknown number of accomplices at Matt’s location. They didn’t even know if Matt was actually there; this could be a trap. He looked up at the others.

Their faces were set in determination. They weren’t going to stop.

They would find him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Matt came to again it wasn’t dark anymore and he wasn’t alone.

“Romelle?” He slurred, blinking the fog from his eyes. She was sitting in a chair similar to his across from him, legs chained to it and hands behind her back. She was looking a bit worse for wear, her hair a tangled mess and it looked like one leg was bent at an unnatural angle.

She must have put up a fight.

Matt blinked slowly, taking in the room now that he could see better. He felt sluggish, like he’d drank half a bar but without the dizziness.

Had he been drugged? Maybe he wasn’t passing out from the head wound after all.

Romelle’s eyes darted fearfully over his shoulder.

“Welcome back, detective.” Lotor’s smile was pleased as he rounded the chair and came into Matt’s line of sight. “I just wanted to thank you for your assistance. You’ve been very cooperative.”

Matt frowned. What?

“And you, my dear,” Lotor continued, running his hand along the back of Romelle’s chair. “Thank you for unlocking his phone for me.”

Romelle’s eyes widened as she shook her head slowly.

“It’s all right here,” Lotor smiled. He flicked through Matt’s schematics for the locking system. “Truly ingenious. I am impressed. Unfortunately, while your little stunt did gain me access, your text did still make it to your friends. They’re likely already on their way.”

Lotor moved towards the TV, now directly above Romelle’s back. “I’ve got a gift for when they arrive.” He nodded to a large box not all that far away from Matt. It had a timer on it, counting down swiftly.

Of course, he was going to use a goddamn bomb. So unoriginal.

“And, as promised, you gave me what I wanted and so I will return that favour.” Lotor turned on the screen. His smile was so cold that it made his eyes darken. “Enjoy.”

Matt’s mouth went dry and his breath stuttered in his throat as Lotor sauntered out of the room. The screen lit up to show what could only be considered an arena, the stage so large he couldn’t see the entire thing until the camera panned back. From there he could see the floor to ceiling walls as well as the stands that surrounded it on all sides.

This was-

_“Let’s welcome our newcomer!”_ An announcer’s voice rang above the roaring crowd, so loud that Matt and Romelle winced.

Matt could see Shiro, still with all his black hair, stumble as he was shoved into the area. Seeing him like that was like getting hit in the stomach with a baseball bat. He’d gotten so used to the white floof and the toned body he’d forgotten-

He’d forgotten what he looked like before…everything.

Shiro looked so _small_.

Shaking his head, Matt clenched his eyes shut. He couldn’t watch this. He needed to focus on escaping. He wasn’t about to just wait for the others to walk into this trap.

Matt scanned his chair, taking in the contraption. The way he was strapped into the chair meant he couldn’t just dislocate his thumbs and pull his hands out. He was going to have to get Romelle to unlock it.

“Romelle, do you have anything we can use to pick locks?”

Romelle stared at him, eyes wide and unseeing. Clouded with pain.

Shock. She was terrified.

“Romelle!” He yelled, startling her. She looked over at him and he tried to ignore the screen behind her. The one zooming in on Shiro’s first opponent, a giant man with an insane number of piercings. Holy fuck, what-

No. Focus.

“Anything that can pick a lock?”

He could see her trying to pull herself together, struggling to concentrate on him. “I-I have pins. In my hair.”

“Okay, we can work with that.” Matt considered, eyes scanning the room. “Romelle, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

She straightened up in her chair, nodding sharply.

“Okay, I need yo-”

He cut off as a cry of pain sounded from the TV. Against his will, his eyes darted towards it, watching as Shiro rolled away from a gout of flame, trying desperately to put out the fire engulfing his sleeve. Shit, he could remember the burn scars on his arm, was that when-

“Matt!” Romelle’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Right. Romelle, did he use handcuffs on you?”

She nodded.

“Alright. I’m going to need you to dislocate your thumbs. It should be enough for you to get your hands free.”

Matt felt pride swell in his chest as she gave him a determined look, squaring her shoulders. She was just a normal citizen caught up in this mess. He was going to get her out of this.

“Okay, listen to me carefully. I need you to clasp your thumb in one hand with your fingers.”

Romelle shifted, nodding at him to continue.

“Now tilt your wrist, like this,” he said, trying to demonstrate with his own hand strapped to the arm of the chair.

She wiggled, face set in concentration.

“ _And he did it! He defeated the champion! What a gruesome twist!_ ” The TV blared, the announcer nearly drowned out by the screaming crowd.

Reluctantly, Matt’s eyes darted to the TV. The camera had panned in close to Shiro’s horrified face, blood speckled against his pale skin.

Romelle yelped in pain and he snapped back to her.

“I know it hurts, I’m so sorry.” He tried to sooth her through the pain as she carefully worked her hand free of the restraint. He glanced over at the timer. Only ten more minutes.

Fuck.

FUCK.

“Okay, now the other hand. You can do it, Romelle!”

She gritted her teeth, covering her mouth with her now free hand. He could see her thumb twisted unnaturally as her hand shook with pain. She whimpered as presumably the other thumb disconnected and after some struggling she pulled it free.

“Perfect. You’re doing so well, you can do this.” Matt encouraged, leaning as far forward as he could in his chair. “Now take your hair pin and bend it open to about ninety degrees.”

Tears streamed down her face as she carefully bent the pin, droplets dripping onto her lap in steadily.

“Use your teeth to rip off the rubber nob on the bottom.”

He glanced at the clock once more. They were swiftly running out of _time_. Only five minutes, shit, shit, _shit._

They weren’t going to make it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiro was out of the car before Allura had even stopped. He paused just long enough to pull out his gun and wait for the others to join him before they set off towards the abandoned building near the docks.

“Shiro, this building is too big, we may want to consider spreading out.” Pidge said, lips pursed in a thin line.

“Backup is on the way, but I don’t think we have time to wait,” Allura said, checking her gun to make sure it was loaded.

“Good plan, Keith you go with Pidge, take the east side. Allura and I will go west. Stay in constant contact.”

“Affirmative,” Keith nodded, follow Pidge as she took off. 

Shiro turned to Allura. “Let’s go.”

The warehouse was cold and dark, dust spiralling through the air where light managed to filter in. Shiro and Allura turned on their flashlights, keeping silent as they listened for the telltale sounds of life. Shiro’s hands were slick on his flashlight, heart thudding in his chest with a frantic rhythm. Each beat was like a countdown, proof that every second he spent looking for Matt was another second he could be hurting.

“Shiro!” Allura whispered, jerking her head to a large, bay door. It looked new compared to the rest of the building. There was very little dust coating it and it didn’t match the other architecture.

Together, they set down their flashlights and grabbed the handle.

“Ready?” Shiro whispered, glancing at her bright eyes.

“Three, two, one…now!”

They heaved on the handle. The door fought them, but with their combined strength they finally managed to fling it open.

Inside they found a small suite, complete with a kitchenette, living room and what looked like a bathroom off to Shiro’s right. There was a door at the back of the room. It looked like heavy steel, thick and reinforced.

Allura and Shiro glanced at each other before carefully searching the room. There were signs of recent occupation. A dirty dish was lounging in the sink along with a half-drank cup of coffee. The table was littered with different tools along with blueprints of what looked like a prison spread out across half of it.

“Shiro, this is Romelle’s purse!” Allura said softly, flipping through the wallet she found inside.

“I don’t think there’s anyone here.” Shiro said, checking the bathroom to make sure no one was hiding in the shadows.

Both of them turned to the door at the back.

Shiro pressed his back up against the wall next to it, gun held up near his face. He nodded to Allura who carefully reached for the door. It had several locks on it, and it took a few seconds for her to detach them all. Shiro held his breath as Allura pushed the door open.

“FREEZE!” Shiro shouted, pointing his gun into the room. “HANDS ON YOUR-“

“Shiro!” Matt gasped, frightened golden-brown eyes startling him into silence. “There’s a bomb!”

Shiro’s mind raced as he took in the room. Matt was strapped to a chair, leaning towards Romelle who was trying to free her ankle from one remaining lock. Beside Matt was a large box, a big red timer counting down at a frightening pace. Four minutes remained.

“ _It’s the Champioooooooon_!” A voice screamed and Shiro froze, panic wrapping around his heart like a straightjacket cinched way too tight.

Shiro swallowed thickly, eyes turning to the television behind Romelle. In it he could see himself, panting as blood trickled between his fingers. His eyes were glassy, a telltale sign that he was drugged out of his mind. What? Why was this-

BANG.

Shiro blinked and suddenly he could breathe again, the iron bands around his chest loosening. Allura stood, face furious as smoke trailed out of the end of her gun.

She’d shot a hole in the television. It sparked pathetically, the video cutting in and out with static.

“Let’s go!” Allura commanded, moving towards Romelle just as the girl managed to free her ankle.

Shiro forced his body back into action. He grabbed his radio. “Pidge, Keith get out. NOW.”

He didn’t bother waiting for their confirmation, he rushed towards Matt, eyes scanning the ridiculous amount of straps and chains trapping him to the chair.

“Shiro…” Matt said quietly, looking up at him.

Shiro’s eyes darted to the time. Two minutes.

Romelle squeaked as Allura casually tossed her over her shoulder. The blonde blushed profusely as Allura moved towards them.

“Go!” Matt shouted, hands clenched into fists as he stared at Shiro imploringly. “Please!”

No, _no_. He wasn’t doing this. He _wasn’t_ just going to leave him here.

Shiro glanced at Allura. “Run, I’m right behind you.”

She stared at him before nodding, turning on her heel and tearing out of the room, Romelle clutching to the back of her shirt. Shiro turned back to Matt, giving him a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

One minute.

Matt yelped as Shiro slipped one arm between the legs of the chair, gripping tightly to the back of Matt’s knee. He ducked his head in the open space near Matt’s armpit. Matt wasn’t a small man, by any means, but Shiro was no slouch in the strength department. He could fucking lift 250 pounds. He was going to save Matt.

Grunting with the effort, Shiro struggled to his feet, lifting Matt and the chair up onto his shoulders in a fireman carry. It probably looked ridiculous, but Shiro couldn’t care less right now.

“Shiro, what the fu-!”

“Shut up.” Shiro charged through the door, risking a few extra seconds to close it behind him. With how thick that door was, it should help contain the blast at least a little bit.

Internally, he was counting down the remaining seconds.

Ten seconds.

He raced past the couch in the suite, refusing to slow down.

Five seconds.

Sweat trickled into his eyes, blocking his vision. His heart hammered fiercely as he stumbled past the large overhead door.

Three.

Two.

Shiro threw the chair down and draped himself over Matt just in time as an explosion ripped through the building. The rusty, dirty machinery rattled as the detonation rumbled, building in intensity until it burst through the open doorway with a puff of fire. It roared ferociously as it plumed, knocking down walls and furniture as the whole ground shook.

Shiro could feel the flames licking at his back, boiling with enough heat that he cried out, curling around Matt as best he could.

He could hear bits of the building collapsing, Matt’s breath hot in his ear, before darkness overtook everything.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt was getting really tired of waking up to darkness.

He blinked dust out of his eyes, tears welling up in an attempt to disburse the intrusions. He sneezed and immediately groaned.

Fuck.

He hurt.

He hurt so much.

He tried to move but of course he was still strapped to the fucking chair from hell. By some miracle, one arm had come loose, so he decided to count that as a blessing.

What? What happened?

He peered around, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Something heavy was draped over him and he moved to push it away only to feel the warmth of human flesh. He flinched, momentarily startled and his whole body spasmed with pain at the movement.

Fuck.

The body on him shifted slightly with a quiet groan.

“M-matt?”

Matt froze. “Shiro!”

Shiro shifted again but stopped with a pained groan. After a moment, he spoke up again and Matt’s heart faltered at how slurred his speech was. “’m sorry…wasn’ fas’ enough.” 

Matt took a slow, careful breath. “Don’t apologize.”

Shiro coughed and the debris covering them moved ominously. “You need t’ stop getting blown up.” Shiro rasped, voice low with pain.

Matt smiled, reaching for Shiro with his free hand and placing it gently on his side. “You know me, go big or go home.”

Fuck his head hurt. He was pretty sure the entire room would be spinning if it hadn’t fallen on them instead.

“Mmm…” Shiro hummed, voice quiet.

“Hey, no, if I gotta be awake so do you. Stay with me, love bug.”

“M’kay…”

“Don’t you worry, the others are going to get us out. Keith will probably rip this entire building to shreds to find us. And I’m not even gonna consider what Katie will do.”

Shiro chuckled but cut himself off with a pained groan. “Yeah,” he huffed, fingers curling around Matt’s bicep. “I hope they’re okay.”

“Dude, Sendak couldn’t even take them out. They are cockroaches. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

“’m sure they’d love t’ hear that.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna tell them all how you fucking lifted me, chair and all, like Captain fucking America. I’m swooning, babe, _swooning_.”

The explosion had been bigger than Matt anticipated. If he’d been in that room…

Shiro’s laugh was more of a huff of breath against Matt’s neck, barely audible.

Dread crawled up Matt’s spine. “Shirooo.”

The other man gave a quiet grunt.

Matt reached up, trying to push the debris piled on them away but it wouldn’t budge.

“Takashi, c’mon, talk to me.”

“Love…you.” He almost didn’t catch it, it was so soft.

Tears welled up in Matt’s eyes for an entirely different reason this time. “I love you too, don’t you dare pass out on me.”

Silence.

“Takashi!”

The quiet was oppressive, pressing down on his chest like a thousand collapsed warehouses. Shiro’s body was still, though he could feel puffs of breath against his skin.

“’Kashi….”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt came to in the familiar florescent glow of shitty hospital lights.

“Welcome back, doofus,” Pidge said, leaning over the bed so he could see her better. She looked exhausted, hair dishevelled with dark bags under her eyes. Her smiled wobbled as he took her in.

“Wha?” He mumbled, blinking away the remnants of sleep.

“You’ve been out for awhile,” Allura said, giving him a warm smile.

Matt’s eyes roamed the room slowly, trying to restart his brain and-

“Shiro!” He gasped, trying to sit up but Pidge held him back.

“He’s right next to you!” She yelped, pressing her whole weight against him to push him back down.

Matt glanced to his left to see Shiro in the hospital bed beside him. He was looking pale, an oxygen mask still over his mouth. Keith and Lance were sitting in the chairs near his bed. Lance was still looking a bit sickly, but he was up and moving around and that…that was nice to see.

“He’s…he’s going to be okay?”

Lance nodded, resting his hand on Shiro’s bed. “He lost a lot of blood, but Hunk and Romelle were able to provide some.”

Matt’s eyes widened as he glanced over at the blonde standing near Allura.

Romelle stared back at him, eyes watery. After a moment, she limped towards him, crushing him in a tight embrace. “Thank you for saving me!” She sobbed as Matt struggled to breathe.

“T-thank you for helping Shiro,” he wheezed, returning the embrace.

“Okay, okay, enough. You’re going to suffocate him,” Keith said and Romelle squeaked, snapping up straight and backing away from Matt with a sheepish smile.

She moved to stand beside Allura, glancing at the taller woman with a shy smile before staring at her feet and blushing profusely. Matt took in Allura’s pleased aura and he grinned. Well, that was adorable.

Matt sunk back into the mattress, suddenly exhausted. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. He was so relieved that everyone was okay.

He couldn’t ask for much more than that.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiro blinked open his eyes.

Where-

Lips crushed against his and Shiro flailed briefly before his brain finally caught up with the situation and he realized it was Matt that was kissing the hell out of him like his life depended on it.

Shiro closed his eyes, pressing up into the familiar warmth.

He gripped Matt’s bicep with his prosthetic, sliding his human hand up and into Matt’s long locks. They were so soft, sliding between his fingers like silk.

He’d been worried that he wouldn’t see him alive again.

Having him here, safe and sound, was more than he could ever hope for.

Matt leaned back just enough to press their foreheads together.

“You’re awake, sleepy head.”

Shiro smiled, tilting his head to press another kiss to Matt’s lips. “What happened?”

“Well, you know, you rushed in like a superhero, saved my life, then a building collapsed on us.”

Shiro blinked. He didn’t remember that at all.

Matt took in his shocked expression. “Are you kidding me!? You don’t remember being a badass?”

“I…no?”

Matt huffed, flopping back down onto the visitor’s chair.

“Did we catch Lotor?”

Matt sighed, slumping forward so he could rest his head on Shiro’s bed. “No. He escaped and…Shiro, he freed Haggar.”

Shiro leaned back into his pillows. Lotor was free and, even worse, he had Haggar with him. Zarkon had been bad enough, but he was nothing compared to those two. He took a deep breath. “I guess it’s up to us to stop them.”

Matt gave him a brilliant smile. “We will. But not until you rest first, mister!”

Shiro’s lips twitched. “Can you come up here? I want to cuddle.”

“Uh, yes? You don’t even need to ask, snuggle bear.”

Shiro laughed as Matt kicked off his shoes and crawled up onto the bed beside him. The hospital staff would probably berate them later, but Shiro didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around Matt, pulling him close.

They were in this together. Always.

_The End_

 

_Bonus_

_Six Months Later_

Shiro stared at the gravestone, face grim.

He didn’t know why he was here, staring at the rotting corpse of a monster. Sendak wasn’t going to hear a word he said and, hopefully, he was burning in eternal misery in the deepest, darkest pits of hellfire.

Forgiveness was supposed to be one of many steps towards recovery, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet in the cold. Winter was still lingering on the town, leaving sparkling white frost on every surface that wouldn’t dissipate until the sun broke through the clouds.

Why was he here?

Reluctantly, he let his eyes return to the tombstone.

“I hate you,” he said, so quietly he barely heard it himself. Speaking the words aloud seemed to release the blockage holding back all the things he wanted to say. “You thought you could break me. You thought I would sit down and take it. You were wrong.”

 “You were _wrong_!” He snarled, baring his teeth. His voice trembled with rage, so encompassing, so all-consuming it left him blind. “I’m the one still fucking standing in the end! I’m the one with friends and family who have my back. What did you have? What did your loyalty and pride get you? Pain and fire and death. As you deserve.”

He clenched his fists so tightly that his leather gloves creaked with the strain. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was rude to yell in a graveyard. He was just so _furious,_ and he couldn’t understand _why_. Tears blurred his vision and he angrily wiped them away.

 “You made my life a living hell and I-” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to be the one to end you.”

And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that how all the stories were supposed to go? The bad guy fucks with the hero but in the end justice is served? He wasn’t satisfied with this. If he was truly honest with himself, he knew he wanted to make Sendak feel all the pain, humiliation and terror he suffered.

God, what was _wrong_ with him? How could he-

How could he wish that on someone else? Even someone like Sendak?

Shiro’s shoulders sagged as the fight drained out of him.

What was he doing here? What the _hell_ was he doing here? This wasn’t helping. Somehow, he thought-

He still had a long way to go. He was used to being good at things. It frustrated him _so much_ that this-this healing process wasn’t happening fast enough. The one thing he desperately wanted was, apparently, something he was so inherently _bad_ at.

Why couldn’t he move on?

Shiro sighed, eyes burning holes into the gravestone. He came here for answers and instead just had more questions. His fingers closed around a box in his pocket. He might not know a lot of things, but he was certain of this.

He loved Matthew Holt. More than he could ever say. Words weren’t enough to describe just how much Matt meant to him.

He pulled the small box from his pocket, flipping open the lid to take in the sparkling ring. Silver and gold entwined, two different metals that somehow came together to make something beautiful. 

Matt completed him. He hoped he did the same in return.

Snapping the lid closed, Shiro returned the ring to his pocket. This whole thing wasn’t over yet. Lotor and Haggar were still out there. Shiro and Matt were going to stop them. No one else should have to go through what he and Matt had.

They were going to put an end to it.

With one last look at the gravestone, Shiro turned away.

Only to come face-to-face with Haggar.

“Hello, Champion,” She smiled.

Shiro’s heart froze and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. 
> 
> Fun Fact: I tied my hands together and hopped onto my coffee table to make sure Shiro could actually do what I made him do in that interrogation room. Writing is fun. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for sticking with this sequel, it means a lot to me. I hope you all enjoyed it and, of course, there is more to come. Because I can't just leave y'all hanging with this. Stay tuned! <3

**Author's Note:**

> New chapter every Saturday! There are seven in total. 
> 
> Please feel free to talk to me about Voltron on [Tumblr](http://eilera-chan.tumblr.com/). :)


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